It's Complicated
by RileyAngel
Summary: They can tell you about their careers, their goals, their friends, what they ate for breakfast, the bath gel they use…you get the picture. However…when it comes to their relationship, well…it's kinda complicated…
1. Chapter 1

It's Complicated. They can tell you about their careers, their goals, their friends, what they ate for breakfast, the bath gel they use…you get the picture. However…when it comes to their relationship, well…it's kinda complicated…

* * *

I'm baaaaack, Bitches! ;-) FYI, in this story Blaine is a year older than Kurt and Rachel (as he was, originally). Some of the people know each other, and some do not. As ever, the characters belong to the prolific Mr. Ryan Murphy and Company. All OC's are mine, and names were chosen randomly and do not reflect any individuals real or fictitious, living or deceased. Any mention of actual people is purely within the context of the story, which, after all, takes place in the (pseudo-) real world. They are not the main characters and will appear sparingly (and no harm is intended :-)).

* * *

Chapter 1

Approximately four years ago…

" _Calm down, Andi_ ," Rachel Berry teasingly instructed into the phone. " _Tell me about Cochella…_ "

Andrea "Andi" Stone, Rachel's best friend and roommate, was apparently having a hard time controlling a major case of "the giggles".

" _It's been so cool, Rach…and I got to cross two things off my 'bucket list', not just one…_ " she excitedly confessed.

" _Andi, please stop referring to your 'bucket list'; it's too depressing_ ," Rachel requested.

" _It is what it is, Rach_ ," Andi pragmatically reminded her. " _With Lupus, ya' never know, so you've gotta take each day 'by the horns'…and I totally did._ "

Rachel could hear the grin in her friend's voice. She smiled as she replied, " _Can't wait to hear the details…_ "

Before she could say more, Andi interjected, " _Listen, Rach; they just announced my flight. I've gotta go…I'll see ya' later…_ "

" _OK, girl; see you at home_ ," Rachel wrapped up the discussion.

" _Blaine's picking me up?_ " Andi queried.

" _Yes, he is_ ," Rachel confirmed. " _I'm working, tonight, so we'll talk in the morning, yes?_ "

Agreeing, " _You'd better believe it!_ " Andi hastily concluded, " _Love ya'; bye!_ "

" _Me, too_ ," Rachel reciprocated. " _Have a safe flight._ "

* * *

Another performance behind her, Rachel opened the apartment door, the sweet sound of applause echoing lightly in her ears. Entering her dark apartment, she dropped her keys in the bowl by the door, removed her jacket, and hung it up in the closet. She exchanged her shoes for the slippers waiting nearby and softly padded toward the bathroom. As she passed the sofa, the lamp clicked on, piercing the darkness with the light emanating from its bulb and stopping Rachel dead in her tracks.

"Andi, what're you doing up?" Rachel gently inquired. "You should've been in bed by now…"

Practically bouncing in her seat, Andi exclaimed, "O – M – G! Rach…I'm so psyched! I _couldn't wait_ until morning to talk."

Rachel sighed, sinking down on the sofa. "Oklahoma!" was a lively show, which equated to an exhausting one for the cast. One of the leads had taken the night off, providing the opportunity to step away from the chorus to portray "Ado Annie", the girl who "'cain't' say no". At this point, the only thing Rachel wanted to say "yes" to was a relaxing bubble bath followed by a good night's sleep.

The bonds of friendship were apparently stronger than the lure of lavender bath salts. "OK, 'Miss Lady'," Rachel prompted, "spill…"

"Well, you know I always wanted to go to Coachella…" Andi began.

"And you did," Rachel interjected. "Was it as fun as you thought it would be?" She looked at her friend fondly, smiling as she continued, "Judging by your demeanor, it must've been."

"The music was great, and I saw tons of celebrities," Andi confirmed. "And…" she paused dramatically.

"And, what?" Rachel queried.

"And I had my first 'zipless fuck', that's what," Andi proudly confessed, conspiratorially adding, "With a musician, no less."

Stunned, Rachel blurted out, "You have _got_ to be kidding me…"

"No, not at all," Andi confirmed, a smug expression plastered on her pretty face.

"Have I heard of him?" Rachel hesitantly probed.

"I doubt it," Andi remarked. "There was this band, 'Directions'…they had a kind of soft-rock vibe. For an unknown group…to me, anyway, they had a nice sound. There was…let me see…" she paused, recalling: "One of the guys had dirty blonde hair and a 'Mick Jagger smile', and there was a keyboard player who was pretty cute, too. Their drummer was a girl…long, dark hair…seemed very intense." She paused, grinning as she continued, "But the lead guitar, well…" she winked devilishly before returning to her narrative, "he had a pair of 'bedroom eyes' that would put George Clooney to shame…and you could've bounced a quarter off his ass."

"Judging by the look on your face, I assume he was 'the one'?" Rachel curiously inquired.

Andi blushed, admitting, "Oh, yeah, baby! It was pretty hot, so he took off his shirt, and that man had abs for days," she lasciviously teased. "He was wearing this silver mezuzah…"

"A Jewish guy, Andi?" Rachel queried.

"Yeah, why not?" Andi posed, slyly smiling. "I'm Jewish, you're Jewish…it's natural…"

"Well, yes," Rachel agreed, "but you've basically gone out with the United Nations, so I'm a little surprised."

"Said the pot to the kettle…" Andi teased.

"Point taken," Rachel concurred, grinning even with pink-tinged cheeks. "So…go on…" she prompted.

Andi earnestly continued, "The guy was 'sex on a stick', Rach. Believe it or not, I could almost hear my mom's voice saying, ' _Go for it, Andrea!'_ "

"I doubt that your mother would encourage you to have intercourse with a stranger," Rachel objected.

"Maybe not, Rach," Andi wistfully admitted. "It's bizarre; after all, they've been gone a long time, now. I just had the weirdest feeling she would've been OK with it…I don't know why. Maybe because he was Jewish, maybe because he was hot, maybe because it's been awhile…I just think she would've understood."

"What actually happened?" Rachel cautiously prodded.

Lustful smirk reemerging, Andi enumerated, "I caught his eye, he came down after their set was over, we flirted, he offered to show me their tour bus, one thing led to another, and, two orgasms later, he autographed a CD for me and I left with a contented smile on my face."

"Two?" Rachel squeaked out.

"Oh, yeah, _definitely_ two," Andi confirmed.

"What's his name?" Rachel probed.

Andi chuckled, admitting, "I have no idea. He had some ridiculous nickname, which I can't remember for the life of me, but he never told me his 'real' name. I suppose it's on the CD…which is in my suitcase, somewhere." She looked directly at Rachel, explaining, "It really doesn't matter, you know. I'll never see him, again. We both had fun, it was what it was, and that's the beginning and end of it."

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy," Rachel confirmed. "Now, if you don't mind, there's an empty bathtub that's calling my name…"

"Go, sweetie; we can talk more, tomorrow," Andi shooed Rachel off. "It's good to be home," she sighed contentedly.

"It's good to have you home, Andi," Rachel agreed. "See you in the morning," she called out as she headed toward the bathroom.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : The term "zipless fuck" was coined by Erica Jong in her 1973 best-selling novel Fear of Flying. It refers to a sexual encounter with a relative stranger without emotional involvement, commitment, or any ulterior motive beyond having intercourse.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Six weeks later, Rachel unlocked the apartment door, retrieving her grocery-filled "green bags" from the floor and bumping the door open with her hip. Surprised to hear the TV running, she deposited the food in the kitchen and entered the living room. She discovered Andi sitting on the sofa, a bemused smile on her face and several small, opened boxes strewn about.

"Andi, is everything OK?" Rachel concernedly inquired. "Didn't you go into the office today?"

Instead of answering, Andi swept her right hand toward the coffee table, upon which were four white plastic sticks. Rachel approached and looked down, noting that one displayed a "+" sign, one showed two bars, and two others contained the word "Pregnant".

Dumbfounded, Rachel plopped into the nearest chair. "Are you sure?" she hesitantly inquired.

"Four tests, Rach," Andi reminded her. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"What're you gonna do?" Rachel asked her friend.

"Have it, of course," Andi assuredly replied. "This may be my only chance to have a baby, and I've decided to have it and raise him or her to the best of my abilities."

"What about the Lupus?" Rachel gently prodded. "I mean, is it safe?"

"Honestly, Rachel, I don't know, and I don't care," Andi staunchly avowed. "This baby is mine; I already love it, and I'll work with my gynecologist and my rheumatologist to make sure that the baby is healthy."

"Well, as long as you're sure, you know I'm here for you," Rachel reminded her.

"That's good, because you're the 'birth coach'," a now grinning Andi informed Rachel, continuing, "and the godmother, if you're up for it."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Rachel confirmed with a smile. "But…what about the father?" she suddenly asked. "Shouldn't you tell him, let him be involved…"

"No," Andi firmly replied. "It was a one night stand and nothing more, Rachel. Hell, I can't even remember the guy's name…not like he gave it to me, either…what does that say about the whole thing?"

"But…what about child support?" Rachel reminded her.

"Rach, we both know that money's not an issue," Andi reminded her. "I'm an only child, and my parents left everything to me. Between their assets, the settlement from the airline, and my own income, this kid'll be set…so, no worries in that regard," she definitively concluded.

"Still, the father has a right to know…" Rachel advocated. "Don't you have that CD? It would have his name on it."

"Look, I have no idea where I put it, and I'm not gonna tear the house apart looking for it," Andi adamantly countered. "Far as this child is concerned, their father was a sperm donor…nothing more." She smiled at Rachel, reminding her, "Between you and me, and Kurt and Blaine…

"And Elliot," Rachel reminded her.

"Yeah, of course, and Elliot," Andi concurred. "Anyway, this kid's gonna have more than enough love to go around. Now," Andi stood up, opening her arms, "come give the 'new mama' a hug…"

* * *

Approximately eight months later…

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Rachel," Andi admonished her best friend. "Let's see how _you_ feel when the tables are turned…"

"Sorry, Andi," Rachel quietly replied, patting Andi's hand and trying desperately to keep her friend calm as she prepared to give birth.

"Push, now…" the doctor cued.

After another half hour of intense labor, Andi smiled through her tears as she was handed her new baby boy. She happily announced, "Auntie Rachel, say 'hi' to Max Evan Stone."

"Hey, there, little one," Rachel tenderly spoke to the infant, wiping away her own tears. Her gaze shifting back to the mother, Rachel commented, "'Max Evan'? That's a beautiful name…is he named for your parents?"

"Yeah, he is," Andi confirmed. "My dad's name was 'Marvin' and my mom's was 'Evelyn'. His Hebrew name will be 'Moshe Eliyahu'. I wish they could've been here," she softly added before breaking down.

"Oh, sweetie, they're here," Rachel consoled her best friend. "I believe that the people we love are always with us. And now, you have this wonderful little guy who'll honor their legacy every day."

"He will, won't he?" Andi queried hopefully, tears easing up.

"Yes, he will," Rachel affirmed. "Now, when you're up to it, there is one godfather and two self-proclaimed 'fairy godfathers' in the waiting room who can't wait to meet Max."

"Rach, go and tell them that I need a few minutes. Come back in around a half-hour…" Andi instructed.

Rachel replied, "I'll text them."

Before she could get to her phone, Andi explained, "Rach, go to them. Take a little break, and I'll see you all in a few minutes."

"You're sure?" Rachel queried.

"Yes, I am," Andi confirmed.

"OK, 'mama', see you in a half-hour," Rachel conceded. As she approached the door, she turned back, recalling, "By the way, I heard from Sue. She and Jean would like to stop by in a few days for a visit. As you can imagine, Jean's ecstatic about being Max's 'honorary grandma'."

"She's perfect for the job," Andi affirmed. "Please let them know I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

Five days later, the four women sat in Andi's and Rachel's living room; Jean Sylvester cradling the currently sleeping Max and the other three (her sister, Sue, Andi, and Rachel) engaged in somber discussion.

"Andi, you _can't_ be serious," Rachel protested.

"Deadly" Andi confirmed

Rachel shuddered, commenting, "Bad word choice…"

"I suppose…" Andi conceded, earnestly continuing, "Regardless, if anything happens to me, I want you to adopt Max." Looking into her friend's eyes, Andi gently reminded her, "You know I have no other family, Rachel. You're my 'sister from another mister', and I couldn't love you more if we were siblings."

"I feel the same way about you, Andi," Rachel humbly responded, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

Acknowledging, Andi nodded in response, earnestly explaining, "I just want to be sure Max has continuity in his life…that he won't wind up in foster care and end up being raised by strangers."

"You know I'd never let that happen," Rachel averred.

"I do," Andi agreed. "That's why I'm asking you to do this now…just…ya' know…in case…"

"Andi, you're fine…you're gonna _stay_ fine," Rachel hastily affirmed. She nudged the document (currently on the coffee table) away from her. "You're worrying needlessly. After all, Lupus isn't fatal."

" _Usually_ isn't fatal," Andi quietly reminded her. "I certainly don't plan on going anywhere for a long, long time," Andi confidently admitted. "I'm his mom, and I wanna be around for that little guy," she continued with a grin and a small nod in Jean's direction, who looked up and smiled gently before returning her focus to the baby in her arms.

Sue Sylvester, Andi's boss and one of the best family lawyers in the country, interjected, "Rachel, much as I hate to admit it, Andrea is right. As an attorney, I can advise you that this is in Max's best interest. If something unforeseen happens, he'll be raised by someone who loves him…who's been a part of his life since birth." She paused briefly, looking into Rachel's eyes before continuing, "Everything is spelled out; the distribution of assets, activities she'd like Max to participate in…if he's so inclined, of course," Sue thoughtfully added.

Redirecting the subject, Sue commented, "Professionally speaking, Andrea and Blaine did a masterful job in crafting this document." Sue looked toward Andi, giving her a rare smile before suggesting, "I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they were both partners by the time they're 30."

"Wow, thank you, Sue," a startled Andi responded to her compliment.

"No thanks are necessary, Andrea," Sue replied. "You're doing an excellent job; the partners are all impressed with your work."

Switching back to the topic at hand, Andi added, "Look, sweetie; I'm sorry to spring this on you, but I do worry about it. This'll put my mind at ease, and I can concentrate on raising Max and getting on with our lives...once I finish tying up the loose ends for his bris, that is," she added with a hopeful smile.

"Do you have any questions, Rachel?" Sue prompted.

"No…not at this time, anyway," Rachel tentatively replied.

"Then you'll sign?" Andi hopefully queried.

Rachel sighed before answering, "Yes," she affirmed. "Since it means so much to you, I'll sign."

"Thanks, Rachel!" Andi beamed. "Come on, Jean; let's get this little one into bed." The two women stood up and left to deposit the baby in his crib for the night.

"You're sure, Rachel?" Sue double-checked.

"As sure as I can be, Sue," Rachel admitted, picking up the pen that had been waiting nearby. "Now, where do I sign?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Six months later…

"Rachel, come on; we'll go through it together," Kurt patiently reassured his friend.

"No, Kurt," Rachel gently refused, "I appreciate the offer, but I'm still processing everything. I'm just not up to it yet. Just pack it up and put it in your basement, and I'll go through it in a few months."

"You're sure, Diva?" Kurt cautiously prompted.

Rachel sighed dejectedly, affirming, "Yes, Kurt; very sure." Rachel continued, explaining, "Blaine donated her law books, Elliot took her clothes and shoes to 'Dress for Success', and her jewelry's been put away for Max. The rest of it…" Shaking her head sadly as her tears reemerged, Rachel concluded "I can't do it right now, Kurt. Please…we just buried her last week…can't this wait?"

"Sure, hon; if that's what you want," Kurt acquiesced. He put down the box he was holding and walked toward Rachel, enveloping the sobbing girl in his arms. "That's OK, Rachel," he consoled her. "Let it all out."

"Did I tell you about our last conversation, Kurt?" Rachel asked despondently. Not waiting for a response, she continued, "She said ' _You'll be a great mom, Rach. Just…please…make sure Max doesn't forget about me._ ' I said ' _Andi, please stop it. You're gonna get better_. _The doctor told us earlier today, remember?_ '"

Rachel paused briefly, attempting to dab at her tears with a tissue. She looked at Kurt, grief evident in her eyes, and continued: "She gave me a weak smile and told me ' _Rachel, you're not gonna believe this, but my mom was here. She said that she loved me and she was proud of me, and she was really, really sorry but she and Daddy would be seeing me very soon, and I shouldn't worry, because Max would have a great life_.' She struggled to pull herself up a little and pleaded, ' _Please, Rachel; promise me?_ '"

Rachel sighed deeply as she concluded, "What was I gonna do, Kurt? I took her hand and assured her, ' _I promise, Andi._ ' The nurse walked in and told me that Andi needed to rest, and that I should leave. I don't think they expected her to go into cardiac arrest, or they would've let me stay with her." Tears flowing freely again, Rachel admitted, "Kurt, I never would have left her alone if I thought she was going to die. I…I feel so guilty…"

"Sweetie, the doctors didn't think she was going to die, either," Kurt reminded her. "They were treating her Lupus flare with all of the appropriate protocols," he reassured.

"I _told_ her she was pushing herself too hard," Rachel recalled. "She just blew me off and kept on going. I guess it was just too much…"

"We all loved her, Rachel," Kurt assured her. "If you want to put this off for a while, it's not a problem. I'll text Blaine, and he'll be right over to help…you won't have to raise a finger. When you're ready, just let me know."

"I will, Kurt," Rachel avowed. "Thanks for understanding."

* * *

Three years later…

The sound of a deadbolt lock retracting and door creaking open momentarily distracted Rachel's attention from the board game on the floor in front of her. "Uncle Kurt! Uncle Blaine!" an excited child's voice resonated through the apartment as the two men entered the space.

"Hey there, Buddy!" Blaine exclaimed, arms outstretched. The little boy scrambled to his feet and ran toward his uncles, to be captured by Blaine and lifted up in an exuberant hug. Both men entered the room, Blaine carrying Max and Kurt bearing a large cardboard box.

"What's that, Kurt?" Rachel posed, looking quizzically up from the board game she had been playing with her son. "You just interrupted a pretty intense game of 'Chutes and Ladders'," she added with a grin.

"This is some of Andi's stuff, Rachel," Kurt gently explained. "The rest is in the car. We'll bring it up in a minute."

"I guess it's time," Rachel conceded with a small sigh, acknowledging, "You're moving next month, after all. I'm grateful you were able to keep it as long as you did." She motioned to Blaine, uncrossing her legs and coming to standing as he approached, taking her son in her arms. "Come on, Maxie; time for a nap…"

"But…Mommy…Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine just got here…" he whined.

"Yes; I know," Rachel agreed. "They're staying for dinner, so they'll be here when you wake up. Now…off with you…" she teased, bouncing him slightly in her arms and causing him to break out in a fit of giggles. Addressing her friends, she quietly stated, "I'll put Max down for his nap, and we can go through the boxes together."

In twenty minutes, Max drifted off to sleep and Rachel returned to the living room where Kurt and Blaine had begun the difficult task of sorting through the remainder of Andi's belongings. The first box had been opened and Kurt was currently thumbing through an old issue of "Vogue".

"This is a 'toss'," he commented, placing the magazine on a pile containing several other magazines of a similar vintage before reaching into the box, again.

"How about this?" Blaine asked, holding up a yearbook.

"That must be one of Andi's high school yearbooks," Rachel surmised. "I'd like to hold onto those for Max."

"OK, then, that goes in the 'keep' pile," Blaine acknowledged, setting it down on the coffee table temporarily until one of the boxes was emptied.

Over the next half hour, the "toss" pile grew while the "keepers" were returned to the first emptied box. Looking down into the half-empty box he was currently rummaging through, Kurt commented "I think I found Andi's CDs…" Lifting something out, an excited Kurt remarked, "Look, guys! A complete Beatles' CD boxed set…" Focusing on Rachel, he requested, "Is it OK if I take this?"

"Sure, Kurt," Rachel approved, "I'm sure Andi would be happy it was going to another fan, especially since it's you."

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt acknowledged the gift, smiling as he placed his treasure on the sofa, separating it from the other articles. He returned to the box of CDs, turning each one over to read the liner notes, selecting one or two others for himself or Blaine and filling a "give away" box with the remainders. About two thirds into the collection, he came across something that puzzled him.

"Guys, this is so weird," he announced, gaining their attention.

"What is, honey?" Blaine inquired.

"I recognized all of the musicians so far, but I'm dumbfounded by this one," Kurt proclaimed. "Have either of you heard of a band 'Directions'?"

Rachel paused, eyebrows knitted and head slightly tilted as she pondered over the name.

Noticing something else, Kurt continued, "This is so crazy; one of the guys autographed it for her."

Eyes popping open in recognition, Rachel reached over, snatching the CD from Kurt's hands.

Two pairs of curious eyes watched as Rachel skimmed the CD cover, reading aloud, _"Baby, you're the best! Hope you enjoyed the music. Puck_." Stunned, Rachel blurted out, "Oh. My. G-d. This man must be Max's father."

"Diva, what _ever_ do you mean?" Kurt queried.

"Andi told me the guy she slept with autographed a CD for her," Rachel explained. "I think that was the band."

"What're you gonna do, Rach?" Blaine gently inquired.

"I don't know," Rachel honestly admitted. "I told Andi at the time she should let the guy know, but she couldn't even remember his name and basically considered him a sperm donor." She paused thoughtfully, finally admitting, "I still think he has a right to know. I'm gonna call Sue on Monday."

"Are you sure, Diva?' Kurt asked.

"No, not really," Rachel admitted. "I think it's the right thing to do, but I need to talk to Sue and discuss everything, first."

"That sounds like a good idea, Rachel," Blaine agreed.

"Maybe Max will get to meet his daddy," Rachel mused.

"If he believes you…or if he even cares…" Kurt interjected.

"Of course, Kurt," Rachel agreed. "I'll schedule an appointment with Sue before this goes any further. She'll know how…or if…to pursue this."


	4. Chapter 4

A short(er) chapter...

* * *

Chapter 4

Two weeks later…

Uncharacteristically nervous, Rachel Berry crossed and uncrossed her legs, adjusting her position in the expensive leather chair. Setting down her mug of tea on a nearby coaster, she gathered her thoughts as she awaited her appointment.

Several minutes later, Becky, one of Sue's administrative assistants, approached Rachel, informing her, "Sue will see you now, Ms. Berry."

"Thank you, Becky," Rachel smiled, acknowledging the young woman. She stood up, tea now in hand, following Becky into Sue's well-appointed office.

"Sit down, please, Rachel," Sue invited, gesturing toward the chairs that faced her imposing desk.

Rachel settled herself in the chair closest to the desk, helping herself to a sip from her now tepid beverage. Moving the mug away from her mouth, Rachel clutched it between her hands. Looking into Sue's eyes, she hesitantly probed, "What were you able to find out, Sue?"

Sue opened the folder, skimmed the first page, looked up and revealed: "It says here that he's 32 years old; his name is Noah Puckerman…used to go by 'Puck'."

"Used to?" Rachel interjected.

"Apparently, the band wasn't terribly successful, and they broke up shortly after he and Andrea had their 'fling'. After they disbanded, he dropped the nickname professionally. He's been a music producer at Atlantic Records for the past two years and shares an apartment in Greenwich Village with his former bandmate…" Sue glanced down at her notes, again, looking up to continue, "Samuel Evans."

Reading further, Sue offered, "He was born in in Lima, Ohio…"

"Ohio?" Rachel interjected. "I grew up in Sylvania." Noting Sue's puzzled expression, she added, "That's in Ohio, too…outside of Toledo."

"Yes…well then…" Sue non-committedly replied. Continuing to rifle through the report before her, she eventually shared, "It says here that he has a criminal record from when he was a kid…spent a bit of time in the juvenile justice system…incarcerated for 60 days when he was 16…doesn't say why."

Rachel gasped slightly at the news, causing Sue to shift her focus from the documentation to Rachel. Noting her disconcerted expression, she hastily added, "Rachel, I wouldn't worry about that. It was 16 years ago, and nothing else like that is mentioned here." She skimmed ahead, commenting, "He must be _somewhat_ intelligent…graduated from Ohio State with a BFA in music _and_ a BA in business administration."

" _Music…hmmm…_ " Rachel thought, a slight smile softening her otherwise serious expression. Breaking away from her musing, she asked, "Does it say anything else, Sue?"

"Not really," Sue responded. "He has a mother and younger sister…doesn't mention a father; not much else here, just contact information for his attorney."

Seeking some reassurance, Rachel tentatively posed, "What do you think I should do, Sue?"

Clasping her hands and placing them on the desktop, Sue honestly responded, "Rachel, that is truly your decision to make. I doubt that Andrea would have pursued this, but Max is your son, now. You're under no obligation to this man, only to the two of you."

"I understand," Rachel confirmed, nodding in acknowledgement. "I've been thinking about this since we found the CD," she admitted. "If this man is Max's father, I believe he should be given the opportunity to meet his son, and, hopefully, Max might be able to have his father in his life." She exhaled slightly, confessing, "I always wanted to know my mother. I met her when I was a teenager, and it took her a while to come to terms with me not being the baby she gave to my dads. We don't have much of a relationship, and, if this man is interested, maybe Max can have more than that." Pausing momentarily, she worriedly pondered, "Sue, could he take Max away from me?"

"Absolutely not," Sue confirmed. "You've been the only constant in that little boy's life, and no reasonable person would do anything to change that. From a legal perspective, if a man is in contact with a woman and she purposefully deceives him about his child, he has the right to contest an adoption. However, a man who never sought out any of the women he slept with and learns years later that he has fathered a child isn't in the same position. He never demonstrated any interest or concern for these women, and courts won't consider a petition for custody."

"Thank you, Sue," a relieved Rachel acknowledged. "I thought Andi should have involved him from the beginning, and I told her as much at the time. I still think he has a right to know."

"You're sure, Rachel?" Sue inquired. "You can marinate on this for a while; after all, he has no idea about Max, so you have time to think it over."

Rachel reflected, "I guess it boils down to either I do it or forget about it. And, since I think it's the right thing to do, if I put it off, I'm just postponing the inevitable."

"If you'd like, then, I can have a letter to his attorney by the end of the week," Sue informed Rachel. "I'd recommend that you write a brief note with your contact information. That way, your identity will be withheld, and if he's not interested, you and Max will remain anonymous."

"I think I'd like that, Sue," Rachel concurred. "I'll put something together and drop it off in a day or so."

"That will be perfect, Rachel," Sue confirmed. "I'll begin drafting the letter tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Sue," Rachel acknowledged, concluding to herself " _I think…_ "


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note** : For the record (and to respond to a Guest), there is no "Beth" in this story. As promised, the saga continues with chapter 5.

* * *

Chapter 5

The following Monday…

Unlike the other attorneys in her law firm, Quinn Fabray preferred opening her own mail rather than delegating the somewhat menial task to a subordinate. She found it gave her a chance to clear her head in the morning, as well as ensured that she controlled who was privy to the information she received each day.

So far, there hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. Finishing her coffee, she set the cup down, checked her watch and, satisfied that she had another hour before her first meeting, sliced open the next letter in the pile.

Opening the letter, a 2X3 photograph fluttered out and onto her desk, along with a 4X6 sealed envelope (landing with a soft " _thunk_ "). Curious, she picked up the picture, studying the pretty young woman's face without recognition. She unfolded the letter and began to peruse the document, jaw dropping and eyes widening as the content sank in:

 _The Law Offices of Jameson, Cooke, Kaufman, Steel, MacGuiness and Fabray._

 _1180 Avenue of the Americas Suite 619A_

 _New York, New York 10036_

 _Ms. Fabray:_

 _The purpose of this letter is to notify your client, Mr. Noah Puckerman, regarding his probable paternity of a child conceived approximately four years ago._

 _Please be advised that this is not a petition for child support. The mother and child are financially secure and are not looking to obligate your client._

 _Ms. Andrea Stone (picture enclosed), met Mr. Puckerman at the Coachella music festival in 2013, engaged in a brief sexual encounter with him, and approximately nine months later gave birth to a child._

 _Unfortunately, Ms. Stone passed away when her baby was six months old. Per Ms. Stone's instructions, the infant was adopted by her best friend, who has been a constant in the child's life since birth and has provided a stable, loving environment._

 _Ms. Stone never revealed the child's paternity; the mother recently discovered his identity when she was going through some of Ms. Stone's property, which had been placed in storage shortly after her death. She believes strongly that Mr. Puckerman should be given the opportunity to meet his child if he so desires._

 _At his request, a paternity test will be arranged._

 _Please advise Mr. Puckerman that he has up to ten business days to decide whether or not he wants to meet the child. Understandably, my client does not want to be put in a position of uncertainty regarding when or if she will be contacted. Furthermore, my client will consider this matter closed if Mr. Puckerman does not respond within the specified timeframe._

 _Enclosed please find a second letter that contains the same verbiage as above and may be shared with your client. The remainder of this document is to remain confidential._

 _My client has enclosed a sealed personal note with her contact information. This is to be presented to Mr. Puckerman_ _if __and __only __if_ _he expresses a sincere interest in meeting his child. Otherwise, my client will not put her or her child's privacy at risk and expects their identities to remain anonymous._

 _If he has reached no conclusion by the eleventh day, this note is to be shredded unopened, and he is never to be made aware of its existence._

 _Please make it clear to your client that no challenge for custody will be considered._

 _Do not hesitate to contact me with any questions that either you or your client have regarding this matter._

 _Sue Sylvester, Esq._

 _Attorney at Law_

 _Sylvester, Pillsbury, Jacobson, and Anderson_

"Holy shit!" an astounded Quinn uttered, shaking her head in disbelief. She picked up her Rolodex, rifled through the contents until arriving at the "P"s, and selected a card. Taking the phone receiver to her ear, she glanced at the card before making her call.

"Damn, it went through to voicemail," she muttered, waiting for the message to end. Using her best courtroom persona, she spoke into the phone, " _Puck, this is Quinn Fabray. Please call me at the office ASAP. Thank you…Bye…_ " returning the receiver to its cradle.

* * *

Mail review long over, Quinn was immersed in preparing for an upcoming case when her a light flashed on her phone console. She picked up the receiver, inquiring, " _Yes, Brittany…_ "

" _I have Mr. Puckerman on line three, Quinn,_ " her administrative assistant offered.

" _I'll take that call, now, Brittany; thank you,_ " Quinn hastily replied.

" _Fabray, what the fuck's going on? I was in the shower when you called. This better be fucking important; I've got a meeting this morning…_ " Noah ranted.

" _Cool your jets, Puckerman, and get your ass down to the office. There's something we need to discuss,_ " Quinn firmly stated.

" _Woman, can't you tell me now? I've got a fuckload on my plate today, and I don't have time…_ " he protested.

" _This is important, Puck, and it can't be discussed over the phone," Quinn insisted. "Make the time. I'm moving some appointments around. Be here at 10:00…_ "

" _Whatever…_ " he sighed resignedly before hanging up.

* * *

Quinn looked up from her paperwork when the door opened, rising to her feet and smiling warmly upon seeing her client.

"Thank you for coming, Puck," she greeted him, quickly apologizing, "Sorry about the short notice."

"This better be important, Quinn," Noah challenged, crossing the room to face her. "I had a meeting with Kelly Clarkson this morning. She wants me to produce her new album and this was supposed to be the kick-off."

"Wow…that's fabulous, Puck; she's an amazing singer," Quinn remarked. "I'm sure you'll be able to reschedule," she placated, gesturing to the chair nearest her desk and watching Noah as he sat down.

Suddenly at a loss for words regarding how to broach the subject, she was relieved when Noah prodded, "So, what is it, already, Quinn? Come on; I haven't got all day…"

"This will explain everything," Quinn informed Noah, handing him the letter that had been included for him. She watched patiently, taking note of the immediate change in demeanor as he began to read.

"What the fuck is this?" he demanded, glaring at Quinn and holding out the letter. "This is bullshit; it…it has to be a scam or something."

"Maybe this will jog your memory, Puck," Quinn patiently remarked, handing him the picture.

He studied it for a moment, a sly grin crossing his face.

"Yeah, I think I remember her," he mused. "She was a lot 'a fun…"

"I don't need to hear any stories about your 'band skanks'," Quinn interjected. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your conquests to yourself."

"Yes, ma'am," he retorted with a smirk and a mock salute, resuming his reading.

Finishing the letter, Noah declared, "I want a paternity test. There's no fuckin' way I wanna get involved if the kid's not mine."

"That's understandable," Quinn agreed. "The mother is amenable, and there are enough labs close by that we should be able to find one with a 48 hour turn-around." She looked at Noah curiously, posing, "What'll you do if the baby is yours?"

"No clue there," Noah admitted. "Never thought much about it, before. A few years ago, I would've just cut and run, but, now…I'm not sure." He paused briefly, revealing, "I mean, if it's my kid, I should at least meet them…make sure they're OK…ya' know?"

"Well, she's giving you a couple of weeks to think about it," Quinn reminded him. "Ten business days, so, basically, two weeks from today to decide."

"Why only two weeks?" he pondered.

"I assume so they can get on with their lives," Quinn responded. "She doesn't want to wait indefinitely for you to make up your mind, like, always wondering 'is he gonna call today?'"

"I suppose…" Noah conceded, mentally processing the potentially life-changing news. After a minute, he looked at Quin, asking, "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I think this is sufficient for one day; don't you?" she posed, smiling gently.

"Sufficient?" Noah echoed. "Yeah, you can say _that_ again."

"I'll contact Ms. Sylvester and advise her that you're requesting a paternity test," Quinn explained. "I'll let you know where and when, and then we'll set up an appointment to review the results and discuss any 'next steps'."

"Yeah…sure…" Noah distractedly replied as he stood up.

Quinn met Noah at her office door, opening it up for him. "It'll be OK, Puck," she assured him, gently touching him on the forearm. "Whatever it is, it'll all work out."

"I hope so," he commented. "I guess I'll talk to you soon…"

"That you will," Quinn confirmed with an understanding smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Thanks for coming with me, Sammy," Noah acknowledged his friend as they left the building, walking down the street side by side.

"Any time, Puck," Sam confirmed.

"I mean, the test wasn't much of anything," Noah admitted, "but the whole thing is kinda overwhelming."

"Hells, yeah," Sam agreed. Passing by a familiar bar, Sam suggested, "How 'bout a beer?"

"Good idea," Noah approved, opening the door for his friend.

Seated quickly and order served, Noah pensively stared through the front window into the late afternoon sun.

"You're sure quiet today, Puck," Sam commented, placing his mug down on the table.

"Got a lot on my mind; that's all," Noah quietly explained.

"Face it, Puck; all those women…aren't you surprised this didn't happen sooner?" Sam objectively inquired.

"I was always careful, Sammy," Noah earnestly admitted. "Nobody wants a kid 'out there, somewhere' who they don't even know, let alone know about. Besides," he added, "most of those girls weren't exactly 'mother material'."

"D' you think she was different?" Sam probed.

"I hope so," Noah earnestly replied, confessing, "I've been wracking my brain to try and remember, ever since I found out. She didn't strike me as the 'groupie' type, but that could just be wishful thinking on my part; after all, it's been over four years. We didn't even know each other's names…what does that say, Sammy?" he posed.

"Well, Puck, 'it is what it is'; what can I tell ya'?" Sam pragmatically replied. "She never came around lookin' for money, so she wasn't trying to trap you into anything…"

"I suppose…" Noah conceded.

"And it's not like you're rich or famous…" Sam continued.

"Yeah; thanks for reminding me," Noah glumly interjected, sipping at his beer.

"Hey, neither am I," Sam retorted. "All's I'm saying is the mother…well, the mother, now…doesn't seem to have any ulterior motive beyond giving her kid a chance to know their father. Not everybody would reach out to a stranger like that. Who knows, Puck; maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

"How so?" Noah queried.

"I think being a dad would be pretty cool," Sam shyly admitted.

"I'll have to take your word on that," Noah remarked. "My old man was a cheating prick who left us high and dry when Ma was pregnant. Not exactly a great role model…"

"You'd never do that, man," Sam confirmed, taking another sip and setting his mug on the shellacked table. He looked Noah directly in the eyes, explaining, "You've stuck by me no matter what…and you'd never abandon your kid, either. You're a good friend, and you'll be a good dad, too."

"Thanks, Sammy," Noah acknowledged. "That means a lot, especially coming from you." He paused, raising up his mug for another sip, and then lowered it back to the table, grasping it with both hands, recalling, "You were the only person who would talk to me when I got out'a juvie…"

"Well, you were more than a little intimidating back then," Sam reminded him.

"Damn straight," Noah confirmed with a slight smirk.

"In any case, we've been friends a long time, Puck," Sam reminded him, "and if I'm confident you're gonna be fine, then, trust me, you will be."

"I sure hope so, Sammy," Noah confessed. "Hell, it might not matter; comes down to it, the kid could be somebody else's. I don't know the mother, and she wouldn't know me, either. She could be mistaken about the whole thing…"

"Very true," Sam agreed. "But I've got a good feeling about this. Actually, I'm kinda looking forward to being 'Uncle Sammy'," he declared, smiling brightly.

"Oh, my G-d," Noah uttered, pondering "what am I gonna tell Jake? He's in L.A., and he's an uncle, too." He paused, eyes widening as he realized, "Holy shit! What am I gonna do about Ma? If Jake knows, he'll tell his mother, and she and Ma are practically 'BFFs'…guess they bonded over how much they hate my old man…" he added as an aside, continuing, "She'll be all over this and on the first flight out'a Columbus…there is no way in Hell I wanna deal with _that_ right now, no fuckin' way…"

"She can be a little, um…intense sometimes," Sam agreed.

"A _little_?" Noah interjected. "That, my friend, is an _understatement_. I can just handle so much shit at once. Guess I'll leave Jake out'a it, at least for now," he decided.

"Probably for the best," Sam concurred.

"I guess, now, all we do is wait," Noah concluded, drinking the last of his beer. "Done?" he asked, looking at Sam.

Finishing his beer, as well, Sam answered, "Yep. Let's go home."

The two friends rose, leaving the bar and walking home together, alternating periods of companionable silence with topics that had nothing to do with babies, paternity, or other life-changing events.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"So, it's definitely him?" Rachel tentatively asked.

"Yes, Rachel," Sue confirmed, handing the results over the desk to Rachel, who took them and began reading. "As you can see, there, it's conclusive," Sue pointed out, "this Puckerman fellow is Max's father."

Rachel's quiet demeanor belied the swirl of emotions she was experiencing. " _Oh, my G-d…this is actually Max's father…what if he calls…what if he doesn't…what should I say…where should I meet him…probably someplace public…what's he like…what if he's hostile…what if he tries to take Max…_ "

"Do you think he'll call?" Rachel inquired.

"He requested a paternity test, so there must be some interest," Sue surmised. "After all, the letter made it clear that you aren't seeking any money, so he didn't need to protect himself financially." Sue glanced at her watch, adding, "His attorney must've received the results by now. If you're gonna hear from him, I imagine it'll be in the next couple of days. He has a deadline, so after next week, if he doesn't initiate contact, we can consider the matter closed."

"I guess now, we wait," Rachel concluded.

"The ball's in his court, so, yes; now we wait," Sue concurred.

* * *

"You've got the results?" Noah anxiously queried.

"Yes, Puck, they arrived this morning," Quinn confirmed. "The office called you as soon as they were delivered."

"Well…what's the verdict," Noah probed.

Envelope in hand, Quinn giggled, Noah's glare immediately ceasing her mirth. She quickly apologized, "Sorry, Puck; I know important this is…it's just…this feels like one of those Maury Povich shows…you know, when he has one of those skanky girls who're on their tenth 'maybe-baby-daddy', and he holds the envelope, opens it dramatically, and announces 'So-and-so, you _are_ …or _are not_ …the father'."

"Yeah, I get it," Noah acknowledged, a slight grin breaking through his otherwise somber expression. "So, what's the verdict, 'Maury'?"

Quinn handed him the envelope, suggesting, "Read it for yourself, and you tell me."

Noah carefully opened the envelope, gingerly removing the report. He reviewed it, disbelief reflecting in his eyes as he looked up, somberly revealing, "Looks like I am the baby-daddy, after all."

"In the words of your people, 'Mazel Tov'!" Quinn quietly congratulated Noah. "Now that you know, what're you gonna do?"

"I've thought a lot about this, ever since you told me last week," Noah admitted, exhaling for what felt like the first time since he'd entered the building. "I figured, if this woman contacted me, the least I can do is talk with her…and hopefully meet my kid." He paused, looking quizzically at his attorney, inquiring, "D' ya' know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"No, I don't," Quinn honestly replied. She opened her desk drawer, retrieving a letter-sized white envelope and handing it to him. "I think this may answer at least some of your questions."

"What's this?" he wondered, taking the envelope from her.

"When I received the attorney's letter, there was a note from the mother, as well, with the explicit instructions that it be given to you only if you decided to meet them," Quinn explained. "I'm sure you can understand; she wanted to protect their privacy, so if you weren't interested or turned out not to be the father, it was to be destroyed unopened. I have no idea who she is or what it says."

Noah ripped off the edge of the envelope, removing the contents and unfolding the piece of feminine stationery. Written in neat, cursive script, he silently read the following:

 _Dear Mr. Puckerman:_

 _My name is Rachel Berry and I am the mother of an incredible little boy who I believe to be your son. I sincerely apologize for not contacting you sooner, but I only discovered your identity the other day._

Noah looked up, announcing, "It's a boy…I mean, I have a son."

"That's wonderful, Puck," Quinn acknowledged.

Noah returned to the letter:

 _Andi Stone was my best friend for over ten years, since we met when we were roommates at NYU. She was an amazing woman, and the closest thing to a sister I have ever known._

 _When Andi realized that she was pregnant, she couldn't recall your name or where the CD with your band had been stored and therefore had no means of contacting you._

 _Andi suffered from Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, and due to the nature of her illness, she asked me to adopt her son in the event that anything happened to her before he became of age. Unfortunately, she had a severe flare up when he was six months old and passed away._

 _Her belongings were packed away shortly after she died, and my friends who were storing them are now in process of moving. We discovered the CD that you had autographed in one of the boxes, and I realized that you were the man she had met at Coachella. I felt obligated to let you know about the situation, and, if you are interested, perhaps meet your son._

 _His name is Max Evan Berry and was named in loving memory of his mother's parents, who were tragically killed in a plane crash when Andi, who was an only child, was 19._

"His name is 'Max'," Noah remarked, looking a bit dazed. "That's a cool name, right?"

"Yes, Puck; it's a good name," Quinn concurred.

Returning to the letter, Noah read:

 _Max is a wonderful little boy and the light of my life. He is extremely bright and always on the go. His current passions are firemen and fire trucks, and I've lost count of the number of FDNY firehouses that we've visited._

"He likes fire trucks," Noah commented, a slight smile beginning to form. "When I was little, I wanted to be a fireman…"

"See, you have something in common, already," Quinn warmly acknowledged.

Noah continued perusing the contents:

 _Max attends preschool three days a week and is either with me and/or his (male) nanny the remainder of the time. He's affable and outgoing makes friends easily. Despite his apparent good nature, he can be quite stubborn when he doesn't get his way and has been known to spend a time (or twelve) in "time out"._

"Says here that he has a stubborn streak…" Noah shared.

"I wonder where he gets _that_ from," Quinn jibed.

"Ha, ha…real funny, Fabray," Noah retorted before reading the conclusion of the note:

 _I want to assure you that we aren't looking for anything from you other than to be a presence in Max's life if you so choose. As my attorney has indicated, I will make Max's DNA available for a paternity test if you prefer to confirm his parentage._

 _If you would like an opportunity to meet him, please call me on my cell at 555-332-1767._

 _Thank you,_

 _Rachel Berry._

Noah folded the note back and replaced it in his envelope, folded it again in half, and placed it in the right pocket of his brown moto-styled leather jacket.

"What's the mother's name?" Quin probed.

Pausing for a second to recall, Noah replied, "Rachel…um, Berry, I think it said. Ever heard of her?"

Quinn's eyes widened in recognition as she gasped slightly. "Have I _heard_ of her? OMG, Puck, do you _know_ who she _is_?

"Can't say as I do, or I wouldn't have asked," Noah reminded her. "Who is she, since you seem to know?"

"Rachel Berry is an actress, Puck. She's currently starring in the revival of 'Guys and Dolls'," Quinn explained, finding a blank look on her client's face.

"You know…" Quinn prodded.

"Sorry; no clue," Noah confirmed.

"Surely you heard about Adam Sandler's big Broadway debut…he's getting rave reviews…well, the whole cast is…it's supposed to be a great show," Quinn expounded, a Cheshire cat-like grin spread across her face.

" _Surely_ I didn't," Noah parroted her, explaining, "I'm not really 'into' musical theater, so I wouldn't have paid much…if any…attention to it"

"I don't get it," Quinn posed. "You're in the music industry…"

"Music…real music…like rock and roll… _definitely_ not show tunes," Noah condescended.

"Music is music, Puck; you should broaden your horizons," Quinn intimated.

"No, thank you," Noah declined. "Hopefully I'll be able to tolerate this tap dancing, Broadway-belting diva long enough to at least _meet_ my son."

"Really, Puck; I never thought you of all people would be so narrow-minded," Quinn chided. "At least, approach her with an open mind. You never know; did she sound nice in her letter?"

"Well…um, yeah…I guess," Noah conceded.

"She's raising her best friend's child; that's pretty selfless, if you asked me," Quinn reminded him.

"Maybe…" Noah reluctantly agreed.

"Definitely, not 'maybe', Puck," Quinn chastised him. "She reached out to you when she could have done nothing, and you'd never have been any the wiser. Consider yourself lucky that you have this opportunity. Give this woman a chance, and at least try to 'play nice'."

"Yes, _mother_ ," Noah teased, rolling his eyes upward and chuckling under his breath.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Noah entered the delicatessen, scanning the late afternoon crowd for a "woman in a purple coat". What he expected was a tall, garish, overly made up (obviously) bleached blonde. Seeing no one who fit that description, as he peered toward the back, he noticed a dark-haired woman seated at a table who was wearing something purple. She was currently engaged in conversation with another woman standing nearby whose eyes were hidden by an oversized pair of sunglasses. He made his way through the maze of tables, approaching the booth and finding both women's attention drawn immediately to him.

" _Not at all what I expected_ ," Noah silently mused. " _Big brown eyes…definitely her own nose…pretty, though…_ "

As Noah was taking his mental inventory, the woman who was standing teasingly muttered, "Not too shabby, Berry." She turned to face him, a welcoming smile gracing her features. Suddenly, the counterman called out "Hathaway…order for Hathaway."

"Well, gotta go, Rach. See you back at the theater," the woman announced. She squeezed the seated woman's left hand supportively before leaving to pick up her order.

Watching her retreating figure, Noah suddenly recognized the woman. Rather than properly introduce himself, he blurted out, "Oh my G-d, do you know Anne Hathaway?"

"Yes, Annie and I are performing in the same show," she stated pleasantly. "We're appearing in 'Guys and Dolls'…she's 'Sister Sarah', and I'm playing 'Miss Adelaide'". Making eye contact, she smiled genuinely and extended her right hand, introducing herself, "I'm Rachel Berry. You must be Noah Puckerman…"

Reaching to return the handshake, he took her hand in his, replying, "Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you. My friends call me 'Puck'…"

"I'm so happy to meet you, Noah…" Rachel paused, tilting her head slightly to the right as she requested, "'Noah' is such a beautiful name; do you mind if I call you that, instead?"

Totally out of character, Noah found himself smiling bemusedly and answering, "No, not at all."

"Please sit down, Noah," Rachel invited. "I'm grabbing a bite between shows, so my time is limited, but I'll be happy to answer any questions you have."

The waitress appeared with Rachel's salad and offered a menu to Noah. He shook his head, requesting, "Just coffee, please…black."

Once the waitress had left, Rachel offered, "Would you like to see his picture?"

"Thanks; that would be great," Noah accepted, barely able to conceal his enthusiasm.

Putting down her fork, Rachel rummaged through her handbag, retrieving her cellphone. She searched through her pictures, smiling fondly as she selected one for viewing.

"This is Max," she identified the child, still smiling as she handed Noah the phone. Briefly studying Noah's face, she commented, "He favors you. I definitely see the resemblance."

Noah accepted the phone, staring intently at the image of the little boy. "Wow…I mean, he looks just like I did at that age," Noah dazedly remarked, eyes glued to the picture, a smile forming as he further studied the child's face.

While Rachel continued to eat her salad, Noah scanned through the pictures in the folder. When he was finished, he reluctantly handed the phone back to her. "What's he like…um, Max, I mean?" He posed.

After taking a sip of water, Rachel answered, "He's a wonderful little boy…very active…quite perceptive for his age." She paused, smiling wistfully as she shook her head slightly, continuing, "He has quite the stubborn streak; my friend Kurt says that he gets that from me."

"I was pretty hard-headed as a kid," Noah admitted. "Maybe that comes from me, too."

"Ah, the age old debate…'nature vs. nurture', Rachel kibitzed, eyes twinkling.

"D' ya' think…that is…um…will I have a chance to meet him?" Noah hopefully posed.

"Of course, Noah," Rachel confirmed. "The theater's dark on Mondays; would you like to come for dinner next Monday?"

"You don't have to go to any trouble for me, um...Rachel," Noah assured her.

"We have to eat, Noah," Rachel gently reminded him. "I'd love it if you'd join us. It'll give you an opportunity to spend some quality time with Max."

"You're sure you don't mind?" Noah double-checked.

"Not at all," Rachel affirmed. "It'll be my pleasure."

Rachel opened her purse once again, this time producing a small notepad and a crystal-embellished pen. Noting his expression, she giggled, revealing, "Chanukah present…last year…my friend Kurt is a sucker for anything sparkly." She wrote her address on a page and tore it off, handing it to Noah. "This is my address. If you need directions, give me a call on Monday."

"Thank you, Rachel; this means a lot to me," Noah accepted the invitation.

"You're welcome, Noah," Rachel replied. "I'm looking forward to it. If you don't mind, though, I'd like to wait to tell Max that you're his father until he has a chance to get acquainted, first. I hope that's OK with you."

"Sure, Rachel," Noah agreed (somewhat reluctantly). "You know him best, and I don't wanna upset him."

"Thank you for understanding, Noah. Don't worry; we _will_ tell him…just not right away," Rachel affirmed.

"Would it be OK if I brought him something…like, maybe a toy?" Noah (almost hesitantly) inquired.

"I'm sure he'd love it," Rachel confirmed. "Thank you for thinking of it."

"Don't mention it, Rachel; he's my son, after all," Noah replied. "D' you have any suggestions?"

"Well, he's starting to play with Legos and he loves firetrucks," Rachel explained. "Some of the sets are a little advanced, but that makes it a good activity to do together."

"Legos…firetruck…got it," Noah confirmed. "Thanks, Rachel."

Having finished her salad, she checked her watch, apologizing, "Sorry to cut this short, but I've gotta get back to work. She pulled out her wallet, opening it to take care of the bill when Noah placed his hand over hers. "Don't worry, I've got this," he offered.

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel acknowledged. "It's not necessary, but I do appreciate it."

"Thank _you_ , Rachel," Noah earnestly replied. "You've given me an opportunity to meet the son I almost never knew I had. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"I'm happy to do it," Rachel confirmed. "I always thought that you had a right to know, and I'm glad my attorney was able to find you." She glanced at her watch again, confirming, "I really have to leave now, though."

Rachel stood up and stepped out of the booth, purse now over her shoulder. As she passed by Noah, she touched him lightly on the shoulder. "I'll see you on Monday, Noah. Thanks again for lunch."

Noah turned around to watch Rachel walk away and out of the deli. " _Nice ass, too_ ," he thought, smiling at the realization.

* * *

Walking back to work, Noah's cell phone rang. He extracted it from his pocket, answering, " _Hello?_ "

A voice brimming with curiosity breathlessly inquired, " _So…what was she like?_ "

" _Boy, for an attorney you sure are nosy_ ," Noah retorted.

" _I've known you since sixth grade and we dated for most of sophomore year…_ " Quinn responded

" _Geez, woman; please don't remind me of that…_ " Noah exasperatedly retorted.

" _Whatever. Cut to the chase, Puckerman; what was she like?_ " Quinn asked again.

" _Seems like a nice woman…very down-to-earth. Not at all what I expected_ ," Noah admitted.

" _How's that?_ " Quinn prodded.

" _I was expecting some bleached blonde Broadway bimbo…_ " Noah began.

" _Alliterative today, aren't we, 'Mr. Songwriter'?_ " Quinn jibed.

" _If you say so, Quinn_ ," Noah tersely replied.

" _Didn't you 'Google' her?_ " Quinn probed. " _She's all over YouTube, between interviews and performances and excerpts from her shows._ "

" _Never thought of it, actually_ ," Noah confessed.

" _She was on 'The Tonight Show' a couple of months ago…you should really check it out…_ " Quinn suggested.

" _I'll see…maybe later…_ " Noah evaded. Returning to the original subject, he volunteered, " _She invited me over for dinner next Monday so I can meet my kid…Max, that is…ya' know, he looks just like me_ ," he added with a grin.

" _That's very generous of her_ ," Quinn affirmed. " _She's quite pretty, isn't she, Puck?_ " she teased.

" _Yeah…I suppose so_ ," Noah non-committedly replied.

" _Well, stranger things have happened…_ " Quinn alluded.

" _Listen, Fabray, don't read anything into this that isn't there_ ," Noah testily retorted. " _I'm going to meet my kid and get to know him better, not hook-up. Hell, for all I know, she has a boyfriend._ "

" _Point taken, Puck_ ," Quinn acquiesced. " _Call me next week and let me know how it went_."

" _OK; will do. Talk to you then_ ," Noah concluded, hanging up the phone and continuing on his journey.

* * *

Rachel had just zipped up her first costume when the faint strains of "Defying Gravity" emanated from the drawer that Rachel had yet to lock. Quickly, she pulled the drawer open, reached into her purse, and fished out her phone.

" _Yes Kurt_ ," Rachel answered with a sigh. " _You know I go on in 20 minutes. Is everything OK?_ "

" _Of course, Diva_ ," Kurt assured her. " _I just wondered how your meeting went this afternoon_."

" _It went well, Kurt_ ," Rachel assured him. " _He seems OK. I get the feeling he's still a little 'weirded-out' by the whole thing, though_."

" _How so?_ " Kurt probed.

" _He was pretty reticent…didn't say too much at all_ ," Rachel observed. " _He spent a lot of time going through some of Max's pictures on my phone, and he seemed…I don't know…maybe a little…overwhelmed by the whole thing_."

" _You mean, he's not sure if he wants to be in Max's life?_ " Kurt posed.

" _No, not at all_ ," Rachel clarified. " _He's actually pretty excited to meet our little guy…in fact, I invited him for dinner on Monday._ "

" _You're kidding, Rachel!_ " Kurt exclaimed.

" _Why? Shouldn't I have?_ " she concernedly probed. " _I mean, he seemed nice enough; he even agreed not to tell Max that he's his father, yet. I don't want my son to be confused until he's had a chance to get to know Noah…_ "

" _Oh…Noah, is it?_ " Kurt slyly prodded.

" _Yes; why not?_ " Rachel queried. " _That's his name. What should I call him, Kurt…'the baby-daddy'?_ "

" _No, of course not, Diva_ ," Kurt acquiesced. " _Hmmm…first name basis…dinner on Monday…tell me, Rachel, is he as good looking as Andi intimated?_ "

Rachel paused briefly before replying, " _Actually, he is, Kurt_."

" _Sounds like a golden opportunity to me…_ " Kurt alluded.

" _Opportunity for what, Kurt? A hook-up?_ " Rachel queried. " _Really, Kurt, get your mind out of the gutter_."

" _I'm not the one who brought it up; you did_ ," Kurt reminded her.

" _You were certainly alluding to it_ ," Rachel retorted.

" _I suppose_ ," Kurt conceded. " _You must admit, though, it wouldn't be an entirely bad idea. Face it, Rachel, I can count on one hand the number of dates you've had in the past three years…_ "

As Rachel was about to reply, she was tapped on the shoulder: "Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Berry, but the curtain'll be coming up soon…"

Smiling (and more than a bit relieved), Rachel placed her hand over the cellphone speaker and informed him, "Thanks, Jeff; I'll be right there."

Returning to her conversation, she informed Kurt, " _Sorry, Kurt; I've gotta warm up. I'll talk to you tomorrow._ "

" _OK, Diva; break a leg_ ," Kurt concluded.

" _Thank you, Kurt. Bye!_ " Rachel replied, ending the call. She replaced the phone in her purse, locked the drawer, and handed the key to her dresser. "There you go, Janie. Thanks for holding onto it," Rachel acknowledged.

"Any time, Rach," Janie replied. "See you in a few…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Noah sat on the sofa, peering into his laptop screen and muttering "Rachel Berry…hmm…Tonight Show…"

"What're you lookin' at, Puck?" Sam wondered, walking into the living room and sitting down near his friend, craning his neck to look over the computer to view the screen. "YouTube?" he queried. "Checking out some new talent for the label?"

"No; actually Quinn said I could find a video of the mother…Rachel, that is…here," Noah explained. "She's an actress, and I guess she was on 'Fallon' a couple 'a months ago…"

"So, how is Quinn these days?" Sam asked, face brightening as he recalled his high school crush. "Still dating that 'Wall Street pretty boy'?"

Not looking up, Noah replied, "Um…no, I think she dumped his ass…like, he was fucking his secretary or something…" Noah glanced up at Sam, apologizing, "Sorry, man; I can't keep up with her shit; I have a hard enough time with my own. Why?"

Blushing, Sam stumbled over his words, "Well…um…like, I haven't seen her in a long time, ya' know, and…you keep in touch with her…"

"She's my attorney, Sam," Noah distractedly reminded him. As he continued his YouTube probe, a medium-sized black and brown dog wandered into the room, stopping at the sofa and looking up at the men, tail wagging. "Good girl, Roxy," Noah addressed the dog with a soft smile, scratching her behind the ears. Apparently contented, she settled down, lying on the floor between the two men. Finally, Noah found something that looked promising and clicked on it.

"What's that?" Sam inquired.

Noah rearranged himself so both of them could watch the video. "Looks like Fallon is asking Sandler about the play…yeah…" Noah glanced up at Sam, admitting, "So not interested…"

Sam (who had actually been paying attention to the video) nudged Noah, announcing, "Looks like he's bringin' her on to sing."

Noah refocused on the screen, watching as Adam Sandler left the interview area and walked toward the band where Rachel joined him. " _This is pretty corny_ ," he thought as they began their number, " _but,_ _boy_ _, has she got a set of pipes on her…and those legs…tight little body…my kid's mom is_ _hot_ _…"_ he admiringly mused.

"Wow, is that her?" Sam asked.

"Yep; that would be my son's mother," Noah confirmed.

"Her voice is amazing, and she's _really_ hot," Sam noted, grinning. "Is _she_ seeing anybody?"

Noah bristled at Sam's remark, irritatingly posing, "Geez, Sam; first Quinn, now, this Rachel. Is there anybody else?"

"Since you're askin', 'Wonder Woman'…yeah…definitely her…" Sam teased.

Laughing, Noah admitted, "I have no idea how you'd do with the first two, but I'm pretty sure that the third one is out'a your league…unless you're in the 'Justice League', that is."

"Yeah…I'm 'Batman'…" he announced in his best Christian Bale (as Batman) impression before breaking down in raucous laughter.

"Dude, if you're Batman, what's that make me?" Noah pondered, "'Robin the fuckin' Boy Wonder'?"

"If the cape fits, bro; if the cape fits…" Sam replied between fits of laughter.

* * *

Wandering down the Lego aisle at Target the following day, Noah pondered over the different options. Selecting a box and studying it, he asked Sam, "D' you think he'd like this? I mean, it says 'ages 4 to 7', and, he's only three, but he'll be four eventually…"

"I think it's better to get something that he'll grow into rather something that he'll outgrow," Sam advised. "You can always help him put it together." Sam picked up a box for younger children and showed Noah, "See, this almost looks too easy. He'll be bored with it in a couple of months." Looking pointedly at Noah, he prompted, "Did she say when you're gonna meet your kid…what's his name, by the way? I hate referring to him as 'your kid'…"

"His name's 'Max'," Noah responded to the first question last. "That's a good, name, yeah?"

"'Max'…" Sam repeated as he considered the name, replacing the toy on the shelf. "Yeah, I like it. Sounds cool; not as cool as 'Ni'awtu', of course…"

"'Ni'…huh? What the fuck kinda name is that?" Noah questioned.

"That's my name in Na'vi, if ya' must know," Sam (slightly) sheepishly explained.

"Holy shit, Sam. How the hell did ya' figure that one out?" Noah laughingly posed.

"Na'vi name generator," Sam admitted. "You can find just about anything online…"

"Apparently," Noah conceded, shaking his head slightly at his friend's never-ending obsession with "Avatar".

Reverting to the original subject, a smiling Sam commented, "'Max Puckerman' has a nice 'ring' to it…"

"Actually, it's 'Max Berry'," Noah corrected. "I have no claim to him, man. Honestly, she's doin' me a solid, really, letting me meet him. She didn't have to do anything, and I would've never known."

"D' ya' know when you'll get to see him?" Sam hesitantly repeated his initial question.

"Actually, the mother…that is, _Rachel_ …invited me for dinner next Monday," Noah informed him. "I'll meet him then. I wanna pick up something to take over there."

"Dinner?" Sam echoed. "Wow…she must really _like_ you…I mean…the girls I date never invite me for dinner…can she cook?"

"How the Hell would I know that, Sam?" Noah (slightly exasperatedly) responded. "I barely know her; I just met her the other day. Besides, this isn't a date. I'm going over there to meet my son, not hook up with some random woman."

Sam had opened his mouth to comment on his friend's history with "random" women and hook-ups, but thought better of it and withheld his remarks, replying, instead, "Well, if she cooks half as good as she looked in that video the other day…"

Before he could say anything more, Noah cut him off: "Holy shit, Sammy, for the last time, please stop talking about my son's mother like she's some bimbo or something…"

" _Defensive much?_ " Sam thought to himself, grinning slyly. " _Maybe he liked her more than he even realizes…_ " Rather than stating what was becoming apparent to Sam, he replied, "Sorry, Puck. Won't happen again." Noticing a different kit he announced, "Hey, check this one out…"

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Unfortunately, I have no idea how "Ni'awtu" is pronounced, so don't ask me ;-).


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A wrapped gift under his left arm and a colorful bouquet of parrot tulips in the same hand, Noah anxiously approached the apartment building. For a man who prided himself on being "calm, cool, and collected", he was currently finding himself somewhat overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting his son. He hesitated briefly at the front door to the apartment building before entering the building and stopping at the front desk.

"Um…excuse me…" he hesitantly approached the woman at the desk.

"Yes, may I help you?" she politely inquired.

"Um…yeah…yes, I have an appointment with Ms. Berry," he explained. "I'm Noah Puckerman."

The woman briefly checked her notes, looked up and confirmed with a smile, "Yes, she mentioned that she was expecting you. Please take the elevator to the 12th floor…apartment 1247. Elevator's down the hall over there," she instructed, gesturing behind her with her right hand.

"Thank you," Noah acknowledged with a smile before heading toward the elevators. Upon reaching his destination, he pressed the "up" button, tapping his foot anxiously as he waited for the doors to open. Once they did, he stepped in, pressed the button for the 12th floor, and watched as the doors closed, anxiety mounting with the ascending elevator.

Noah exited the elevator when the doors opened on the 12th floor. Following the small sign indicating the direction of the apartment, he turned left at the first corridor and quickly reached the apartment. After softly rapping on the door, he heard someone approaching and then the deadbolt turning in the door before Rachel opened it. Drying her hands with a kitchen towel, she welcomed Noah in.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she warmly greeted him. "Sorry about the towel…" she glanced at her hands, smiling, and continued, "but you caught me finishing up in the kitchen. I hope you like lasagna…"

"Love it," Noah confirmed. "Thanks again for inviting me. These are for you," he handed her the tulips.

"Thank you, Noah; these are lovely," Rachel accepted the flowers. "How did you know that tulips are my favorites?"

"I didn't, actually," he admitted, "When I saw them, I thought of you," he explained, puzzling " _Why did I just admit that…Hell, why did anything 'remind' me of her…I barely know her…_ " He raised the package slightly, offering, "This is for Max. You said that he liked Legos…"

"He does," Rachel concurred, smiling softly. "Thank you for the gift. You'll have to help him put it together, though…it'll be a good bonding experience."

"I think I'd like that," Noah replied. "Um…where is he, by the way?" he hesitantly inquired.

"He's watching TV right now," Rachel explained. "Let me take your jacket and then put these in some water, first, and I'll introduce you."

Noah took off his leather jacket, placing it on the hanger that Rachel provided and hanging it in the closet. Closing the closet door, Noah followed Rachel into her kitchen and watched as she opened a cabinet, removed a vase, filled it at the sink, unwrapped the bouquet, and placed the flowers in water.

"The flowers truly are beautiful, Noah," Rachel complimented. She smiled bemusedly, recalling, "My fathers tried growing them, but the squirrels kept lopping the heads off. My Dad said that was a sign that squirrels have a sense of humor because they love to torment the humans."

"Fathers?" Noah tentatively inquired.

"Yes," Rachel confirmed with a nod and a beaming smile, explaining, "I have two fathers…they hired a surrogate, and my Daddy is my biological father. I couldn't have asked for two better parents."

"You're lucky," Noah confided. "My old man took off when I was seven, and my mom raised me and my sister pretty much by herself." He paused, thoughtfully continuing, "My Nana had her back, though. She really stepped up when Ma went back to school to get her nursing degree."

"Have you told them…about Max, I mean?" Rachel cautiously probed.

"No," Noah emphatically replied. "Ma would be on the first plane out'a Columbus, and," he continued with a chuckle, "trust me, you _definitely_ don't want to deal with 'Hurricane Debbie' right now."

"Is she…difficult?" Rachel prodded.

"Nah," Noah assured her, "just, let's say, a little intense. I'll tell her later, of course…" thinking " _much_ _later_."

Rachel took Noah by the arm, encouraging, "Come with me, and say 'Hello' to Max." She guided him toward the living room where a dark-haired little boy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, transfixed by "Aladdin" on the TV.

"Max, honey; turn off the TV and come meet Mommy's friend," Rachel patiently instructed.

Pointing the remote control toward the TV, the child effectively shut it off. He placed the remote on a nearby end table and cautiously approached Rachel and Noah, curiously eyeing the stranger.

Smiling gently, Rachel simply introduced them: "Max, this is Noah; Noah, this is my son, Max."

A myriad of emotions racing through him, Noah smiled shyly, presenting the wrapped gift, hesitantly offering, "Um…this is for you, Max." Now grinning, Max accepted the box and started tearing into the wrapping paper.

"Max, what do you say when somebody gives you a present?" Rachel prompted.

"Thank you," Max distractedly responded, more focused on his gift than the giver.

"Max, put that down and thank Noah properly," Rachel instructed.

Reluctantly placing the box down, Max faced the adults and, looking at Noah, solemnly said, "Thank you, Noah."

"You're welcome, Max; I hope you like it," Noah genuinely replied.

The little boy resumed revealing his present, exclaiming, "Wow, Legos! Look, Mommy," he held the box up to Rachel, "a fire truck!"

"Yes, I see, Max," Rachel warmly affirmed. "If you ask him, maybe Noah will help you put it together."

"Will you, Noah?" Max hesitantly inquired, glancing up at Noah.

"Sure, Max; that'll be cool," Noah confirmed with a grin. "I like fire trucks, too."

"Why don't you two work on the fire truck in here, and I'll finish getting dinner ready," Rachel suggested.

"OK, Mommy," Max agreed. "C'm'on, Noah," Max insisted, taking Noah by the hand and pulling him along toward where he had been seated.

At the touch of his son's hand, Noah felt a surge of unfamiliar emotions. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once, to take the child in his arms and declare his parentage, but, being an adult, he kept himself in check as he sat down on the floor and opened the box for Max. He smiled bemusedly as he watched the boy delve into the box, removing the pieces and placing them on the nearby coffee table.

As Noah perused the instructions, Max commented as he arranged the pieces, "Ya' gotta put the red ones here and the black ones here and the white ones here…"

"It's always good to have a plan," Noah concurred with a grin, glancing up from the paper.

"That's what Mommy says," Max agreed. "Do you have a mommy?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do; and a sister, too," Noah shared.

"Well, I have _two_ mommies," Max elucidated, busying himself with the Legos remaining in the box.

Noah felt a brief surge of disappointment; he couldn't put a finger on it, exactly, but he carefully questioned, "Is she still at work, Max?"

"Nah," Max quickly explained, "she's up in Heaven with my Grandma and Grandpa. Mommy says that they watch over me and love me, but I can't see them." He pointed to the mantel above the fireplace, indicating, "That's their picture, so I guess I can see them."

Realizing that Rachel didn't have a "wife", relief washed over Noah (still not quite sure _why_ ). He glanced up at the framed photo, finding a man and woman with their arms around a teenage girl in a cap and gown, vaguely recognizing the girl as the woman he had met four years prior. "They look really nice, Max," Noah commented.

"Mommy says that she was her bestest friend and they had lots 'a fun, but she had to go away," he pragmatically explained, still focused on his current task. Placing the last Lego on the table, Max glanced up, grinning as he indicated "All done, now!"

"Hey, great job, Max!" Noah acknowledged.

Before they could begin construction, Rachel entered the room, announcing, "Dinner is ready! Max, please wash your hands first."

"OK, Mommy," he agreed, standing up and toddling off toward the bathroom.


	11. Chapter 11

Hi, All! Sorry it's been so long...you never can predict when your muse goes on an extended vacation ;-)

Please enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 11

"This is delicious, Rachel!" Noah complimented. "If you hadn't told me, I never would've known this was vegetarian."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel acknowledged. "Mushrooms do enhance the flavor…and Max loves them."

"Yeah, yummy!" Max concurred, mouth full.

"Thank you, Max," Rachel replied, gently reminding him, "What have I told you about talking with food in your mouth?"

Quickly swallowing his current mouthful and then taking a large gulp of milk, Max clumsily wiped his mouth on his napkin before answering, "Not to."

"That's right, Max; good job," Rachel approved.

"Mommy?" Max piped up.

"Yes, honey?" Rachel responded.

"Will you sing the 'chicken song' tonight before I go to sleep?" he cutely requested.

"Of course, baby," Rachel agreed.

"The 'chicken song'?" Noah queried.

Rachel giggled, answering, "That's what Max calls 'A Bushel and a Peck'…it's from 'Guys and Dolls'…the show I'm in, now." Noting Noah's blank expression, she further explained, "'Miss Adelaide'…that's me…and the 'Hot Box Girls' sing this in the first act. I'm wearing this 1930s-ish skimpy farm girl costume, and they wear these little feathered outfits to suggest 'chickens'…" Recognizing Noah's lack of recognition, she patiently asked, "You're not familiar with the show, are you, Noah?"

"No, I'm not much of a 'Broadway guy'," Noah hesitantly explained. "'Hot Box Girls'? Has Max seen the show? That sounds a little…adult…" he concernedly questioned.

"Trust me, Noah; it's pretty 'G-rated'," Rachel advised. "Actually, Disney bought the rights; I guess they wanted to branch out beyond their own 'brand'…you know, like 'The Little Mermaid', 'Mary Poppins'…basically restaging, or as they call it 're-imagining' their films. They didn't impose any 'Disney-esque' changes to the script, so the book is pretty much verbatim to the original production…although Adam _did_ offer a couple of minor suggestions that were incorporated. Any adult humor is subtle and goes right over the kids' heads. We get families and school groups all the time." She paused thoughtfully before offering, "Would you like to see the show? I can reserve some tickets for you…and your girlfriend, of course…" she trailed off, surreptitiously studying Noah's expression at the mention of "girlfriend".

"That's really generous, Rachel; thank you," Noah accepted, "but I'm not dating anybody."

Rachel was surprised to feel relieved when Noah confessed to not having a woman in his life and found herself smiling a little brighter.

"Ya' know," Noah mused, "I'll bet my attorney and my roommate would get a kick out of it…could you possibly reserve _three_ tickets?"

"Sure, Noah; it'll be my pleasure," Rachel agreed. "Just give me the date, and I'll see what I can do for you."

"Thank you, Rachel," Noah restated. "Can I let you know tomorrow?"

"That'll be fine, Noah," Rachel confirmed. "After the show, we can all meet and go out for drinks or a quick bite. I look forward to hearing your opinions once you've seen it."

"Don't you have to get home…ya' know, to Max?" Noah queried, Max raising is head slightly at the mention of his name.

"David…that's Max's nanny…will stay over occasionally; he sleeps in the guest room," she explained. "If he has other plans, Uncle Blaine…that's Max's godfather…will either spend the night or Max will have a sleepover at his house."

"Oh, boy! Am I gonna sleep over at Uncle Blaine's and Uncle Kurt's?" Max excitedly interjected.

"Maybe," Rachel tentatively affirmed.

"I _love_ Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine…and Lola," Max affirmed.

"Lola is their…well, actually _Kurt's_ …Chihuahua," Rachel clarified, Noah nodding his head in understanding.

"Do you like dogs, Max?" Noah inquired. "I have a dog, too; her name is 'Roxy'."

Grinning broadly, Max nodded his head eagerly as his mother asked, "As in 'Roxy Hart'?"

"No, as in ' _Roxanne-you-don't-have-to-put-on-the-red-light_ '," Noah clarified.

"From 'Moulin Rouge!'?" Rachel prodded.

"Actually, from 'The Police'…" Noah explained: "Maybe five years ago, we were taking a break between shows, and Sam was playing his guitar and singing this song. A skinny dog wandered up and started howling along with him."

Giggling, Max offered, "The doggy was singing?"

"Actually, yeah; it seemed like it," Noah conceded with a grin. "In any case, we asked around and couldn't find an owner. She was really friendly, and we took her to a vet to see if she was 'chipped'…she wasn't. We made sure she was healthy, 'chipped' her, groomed her, and took care of her shots. On the way back, we stopped off at a pet store to pick up some food and a bed…"

"And toys?" Max interjected.

"Yes, Max; and toys," Noah confirmed. "We bought a license the following Monday. She's been ours ever since."

"That's really sweet," Rachel commended. "Rescuing a dog is a wonderful thing to do."

"Thanks, Rachel," Noah accepted the compliment.

They continued their meal in momentary silence, which was quickly ended by Max's "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?" Rachel replied, placing her fork down and looking at her son.

"When Uncle Kurt was here yesterday and I was coloring, I heard him say that you know who my daddy is," Max hesitantly offered.

Noah placed his fork down, as well and Rachel noticeably blanched. Rather than reprimand the child for eavesdropping, Rachel maintained a steady voice and made eye contact with her son as she answered honestly, "Yes, I do, Max. I just found out the other day."

Noah watched the boy intently. Max shifted his focus to Noah, hopefully inquiring, "Are you my daddy, Noah?" He turned to Rachel, continuing, "He kinda looks like me, and he's really nice, and he even has a doggy. Is it him?"

Noah looked at Rachel, hoping for some kind of signal. She gave him a tentative smile and nodded slightly, encouraging him to confess, "Yeah, Max, I'm your daddy. I found out the same time as your mom did." He paused briefly, mentally assessing the unexpected turn of events before posing "Is it OK, Max; that is, that I'm your dad?"

"Yeah!" Max emphatically replied. "I always wanted a daddy. I mean, I have uncles and aunts and my Gramma Jean and my Zadie and Papa…"

"And David…" Rachel reminded him.

"Yeah, and David…he's my nanny," Max explained, grinning. "But I never had a daddy, and now I have one." Max looked at Noah, again, making instant eye contact. "Is it OK if I call you 'Daddy' instead of 'Noah'?"

"Of course it is…son…" Noah quietly replied.

"Cool!" Max confirmed, returning to his dinner as if nothing had changed.

* * *

AN: "Roxanne" was originally performed by The Police; words and music by the legendary Sting.

A brief PSA: Having a microchip inserted in your dog ("chipping") is relatively inexpensive and no more painful than a shot. The chip is the size of a grain of rice and usually inserted between the shoulder blades. This can help a dog be identified if they become lost. Ongoing coverage is around $20/year. This is a small price to pay to help ensure that a beloved pet is returned to their family. I will now officially step off my soapbox. ;-)


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note** : A longer chapter to (hopefully) make up for the lapse of time...

* * *

Chapter 12

"… _'Cause I love you a bushel and a peck  
You bet your pretty neck I do -_

 _Doodle oodle oodle_  
 _Doodle oodle oodle_  
 _Doodle oodle oodle, oo!_ "

Singing very softly, Rachel completed the song as Noah looked on from the doorway. "Good night, Baby," she whispered, kissing Max softly on the cheek. She tucked him in, turned, and joined Noah in the hallway.

"Thank you for helping with Max's bath," Rachel acknowledged as they walked toward the living room.

"It was fun," Noah admitted with a grin. "When my sister was that age, I was around 10, so either my mom or my Nana took care of her bath."

Entering the living room, Rachel sat on the sofa and Noah the chair closest to her.

"It's ironic," Rachel observed wryly, "we're Max's parents, and we barely know each other. If you don't mind, I'd like to change that."

She glanced shyly at Noah, who responded, "Sure; no problem there, Rachel. Fire away…"

"When Andi met you, you were in a band, so I assume you're a musician…" she opened the conversation.

"Well, that was the plan, anyway," Noah ruefully admitted. "Our band was good…at least, we thought so. It was fun in the beginning, exciting even, but touring gets old after a while. We never really caught on enough to become successful, and we disbanded about four years ago. I'm a music producer for Atlantic Records, now."

"And you enjoy your work?" she gently prodded.

"Yeah, I do," Noah confirmed. "Along with the production aspects, I write original music as well as co-writing with some of our artists. I get to do what I enjoy without living out of a suitcase, so it works for me."

"You mentioned your roommate earlier…Sam, I think you said…" Rachel alluded inquisitively.

"Yeah, Sam," Noah confirmed, smiling. "We've been friends since high school…actually, for a while, he was my only friend," Noah remarked.

"Why's that, Noah?" Rachel gently encouraged.

"Well, I had a rough few years," he admitted. "Went a little wild…even tried to steal an ATM when I was 16 and spent a couple 'a months in juvie. He's the only one who stood by me…outside of my family, of course." He paused, querying, "You don't seem upset by this…I mean…your son's father has a criminal record…"

Smiling softly, Rachel reassured him, "To be honest, Noah, my attorney mentioned that when we first learned who you were."

"And…you still wanted me to meet Max?" Noah hesitantly questioned.

"Of course, Noah; you're his father, after all," Rachel assured him. "Everyone makes mistakes when we're 16; unfortunately, some have more serious ramifications than others. Although I don't know you well, I can tell that you're a good man…a good _person_ …" she affirmed.

"Thank you, Rachel," Noah humbly accepted her compliment.

"You're welcome, Noah," Rachel replied. "So...you were telling me about…Sam, is it?" she redirected the conversation. "You've been friends a long time," she acknowledged. "What does he do?"

"Sam's a teacher," Noah answered. "He's runs the music program at a middle school in Queens. And if band, orchestra, and choir weren't enough, he's also the assistant coach during football season."

"That's quite commendable, Noah," Rachel admiringly commented. "He must really like kids."

"Yeah, he does," Noah agreed. "He has a younger brother and sister and they're all close. In fact, I know he's looking forward to being 'Uncle Sammy'…when you and Max are ready, of course," he added, not wanting Rachel to feel pressured.

"One can't have too many 'aunts' and 'uncles'," Rachel acknowledged.

Turning the tables (so to speak), Noah requested, "Enough about me, what about you, Rachel? How did you decide to become an actress?"

Rachel reminisced, "For my sixth birthday, my dads took me to a local performance of 'Beauty and the Beast' and I was hooked. All of my time away from school was filled with dance classes and singing lessons and pageants. Because I was so single-minded, I lost out on a lot of what being a kid is about. Andi truly changed that for me."

"Can you tell me a little about her?" Noah requested. "I mean, I didn't really know her that well…" he hesitantly drifted off.

"Sure, I'd be happy to," Rachel complied. "Andi was one of the most upbeat people I've ever known." She paused, making eye contact before continuing, "She never said as much, but I think she had a premonition that she wouldn't live long, and she tried to make every day count."

Rachel smiled nostalgically, enlightening Noah, "As I mentioned, I was extremely focused as a kid, always thinking about my 'career'. Andi encouraged me to live in the present, rather than for the future, and we did things together I never would have on my own."

"Such as…" Noah curiously prodded.

"I would've taken summer classes after my freshman year, but Andi convinced me to travel, and we spent the summer in Europe. The next year, we went on our 'Birthright' trip to Israel. As soon as I turned 21, we drove down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras…"

"What was that like?" Noah questioned with a cocked left eyebrow and a teasing grin.

Smiling broadly (and blushing lightly), Rachel commented, "Let's say that Las Vegas isn't the only place where what happens there _stays_ there."

After they both laughed at her admission, he inquired, "Where'd you meet her, Rachel?"

"We were assigned roommates at NYU," Rachel explained. "I was a freshman at Tisch, and she was repeating her sophomore year in the pre-law program. Andi dropped out of the University of Wisconsin after her parents passed," she informed him, "so, although she was two years older, we were only a year apart academically."

"She was a lawyer?" Noah posed.

"Yes; one of the best at her firm, actually," Rachel confirmed. "She was smart and driven, loyal and funny, honest to a fault, fiercely protective of the people she loved, and a wonderful mother in the short time she had with Max." Rachel sighed, concluding, "I think she took on too much after Max was born, and her body reacted with a major Lupus flare. Unfortunately, her heart was affected, and it happened so quickly…well, there was nothing that the doctors could do."

"I didn't know…I'm so sorry…" Noah offered his condolences.

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel accepted. "I miss her every day, and I have Max as a wonderful daily reminder."

"He's a great little guy," Noah observed. "Thanks again for letting me be a part of his life."

"You're more than welcome, Noah," Rachel graciously replied.

"If it's not too much to ask, can I see him…that is, both of you…again?" Noah tentatively proposed.

"Of course, Noah," Rachel confirmed. She paused a moment, considering possible activities. "How about next Sunday? Annie and I had planned to take the boys to the zoo then…her son, Jonathan is a little younger than Max, but they get along well…anyway, her parents are visiting and they won't be able to make it." She looked at Noah, inquiring, "Would that work for you? We can meet you around 11..."

"That sounds like fun," Noah agreed with a smile. "How about I stop by at 10 with lox and bagels, and we can leave after breakfast."

"Thank you, Noah; that sounds lovely," Rachel accepted. "That's one of Max's favorite breakfasts."

"Mine, too," Noah concurred.

Both smiling, they sat silently for a moment, each musing, " _She's/he's really nice…this went better than I expected…_ "

Realizing the time, Noah glanced at his watch, announcing, "I'd better be going; it's getting late, and we both have to work tomorrow."

Simultaneously, Noah and Rachel stood up and walked toward the closet, where he retrieved his jacket. They proceeded to the front door, which Rachel opened.

"Thanks again, Rachel, I had a great time tonight," Noah acknowledged.

"We did, too," Rachel concurred. "Max will be so excited when I tell him about next Sunday."

"I'm looking forward to it," Noah admitted with a shy smile. "Well, good night, Rachel."

Rachel looked into Noah's eyes, and, almost instinctively, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

Blushing slightly, Rachel softly stated, "We'll see you Sunday, Noah."

Smiling contentedly, Noah left the apartment, the sound of the deadbolt turning as he walked away.

* * *

Turning the key in his own lock was noted with the sound of happy barking.

"Hey, there, little girl," Noah greeted the dog, bending down to scratch her behind the ears before removing his jacket. He had finished at the closet when Sam called from the living room, "Hey, Puck! How'd it go?"

"Just a minute, Sam," Noah answered, closing the closet door. He walked into the room, dog following. Sam placed the TV on mute and Noah sat down in their recliner, leaning forward toward Sam, hands clasped loosely together. The dog jumped on the sofa and settled in next to Sam.

"So, spill, Puck; I'm dyin' here," San prodded, grinning inquisitively.

"It was…great…" Noah hesitantly confessed, adding "way better than I expected. He's a great kid, Sam…smart…figured out that I'm his dad all by himself."

"Really?" Sam responded. "How'd he take it?"

"Like it was the most natural thing in the world," Noah recalled. "Said he always wanted a daddy, and went back to eating his dinner like nothing had changed."

"And the mom…" Sam probed.

"She's really cool, Sam," Noah acknowledged. "She's done a great job raising him, and she's nice…very genuine, not at all like I expected before I met her."

"Such as…" Sam prompted.

"Such as I figured since she's an actress, she'd be self-absorbed and superficial, but she's down-to-earth and easy to talk to."

"You like her," Sam observed.

"Of course, I like her Sam…oh…jeez Sam, I barely know her," Noah countered. "Please don't go lookin' for something that's not there…"

" _Protesting too much…interesting…_ " Sam mused. "Is she a good cook?" he good-naturedly inquired.

"Yeah, she is" Noah reported. "We had vegetarian lasagna, and I'd swear there was meat in it."

"Very nice," Sam commented. "At least, you know your kid's eating healthy."

"I'm sure he is," Noah concurred. "By the way," he continued, changing the subject, "she offered to reserve some tickets for her show for us…and Quinn."

Sam's face brightened at the mention of his former high school crush. "Sounds cool; when?" he inquired.

"Next week," Noah explained. "I'll call Quinn tomorrow and we'll figure it out, and I'll call Rachel and let her know."

"When you do, please thank her for me," Sam requested. Grinning slyly, he asked, "So, are you seeing her…I mean them…again soon?"

"Yeah, actually we're going to the Central Park zoo next Sunday," Noah answered. "Sounds like she was supposed to go with Anne Hathaway, but…"

"She knows _Anne Hathaway_?" Sam interjected incredulously.

"Yeah, they're in the same show," Noah explained. "You saw on YouTube, Adam Sandler's in it, too."

"Yeah, but _Anne Hathaway_ …she's _hot_ …"

"And _married_ …with a _kid_ , Sammy…chill out, already…" Noah teased.

"Yes, _Dad_ ," Sam jibed back.

"You are such a _dork_ ," Noah retorted with a grin.

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ dork," Sam replied, smiling as well.

"Yep; you are," Noah agreed. "It's late, bro. I'm gonna head off to bed. Got a meeting early tomorrow." Noah stood up, excusing himself, "Good night, Sammy."

"'Night, Puck," Sam replied, returning his attention to the TV as he released the sound, turning it down to not disturb his roommate.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : In case I haven't mentioned it previously, "Guys and Dolls" is an American musical comedy that premiered on Broadway in 1950. The music and lyrics were written by Frank Loesser and the book was co-written by Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Daddy…Daddy…goats…" Max excitedly urged, tugging Noah's hand as he headed toward the goat exhibit at the Tisch Children's Zoo.

"Whoa; slow down, buddy!" Noah cautioned, chuckling. "Give your mom a chance to catch up."

"Right behind you…" Rachel called out, pushing the stroller, its current resident a tote bag packed with essentials for a zoo trip (water, juice boxes, fruit, an extra shirt for Max, hand sanitizer, etc.).

Rachel stood back a bit, discretely observing Noah and Max. It was apparent that the little boy had taken to his father and the feeling was mutual. She reflected on the phone call they had shared the day after his visit:

 _Noah had called to confirm with Rachel regarding tickets for the following Thursday. During the conversation, he asked to speak with Max, who happened to be at daycare. She encouraged him to call later, when Max would be home, and also invited him to talk with the boy whenever it was convenient, as long as it was before Max's bedtime. Since then, he spoke with the child every day._

People were milling around the goat pen, adults and children alike feeding the goats, who greedily congregated close to the fence, approaching anybody who had a piece of kibble and delicately removing it from their hands. "Daddy, I wanna feed the goats," Max requested, looking hopefully at Noah.

"Sure thing, buddy," Noah agreed, walking back toward Rachel.

"Mommy, I wanna feed the goats," Max repeated.

"Yeah, 'Mommy', we wanna feed the goats," Noah parroted, winking at Rachel.

"Oh, you two _boys_ ," Rachel teased. "Here, Max; I have some food," Rachel announced, holding out a small brown paper bag that she had filled with goat chow she'd purchased at a nearby dispenser.

"Thanks, Mommy!" Max acknowledged, accepting the bag and returning with Noah to the fence, where he proceeded to hold his hand out, giggling as each goat licked the piece of food out of his palm.

Rachel stood by, smiling fondly as she observed Noah obviously enjoying himself as he bonded with their son. Using her phone, she snapped a couple of pictures, figuring she would share them with Noah, later. Standing nearby was an older woman, apparently watching her grandchildren. She turned to Rachel, remarking, "Brings out the child in all of us, doesn't it?"

"Every time," Rachel agreed as she returned her phone to her handbag.

"Is that your little boy?" the woman asked, nodding in Max's direction.

"Yes, that's my son," Rachel confirmed.

"He's adorable," the woman complimented. Leaning in closer, she conspiratorially whispered, "Your husband's pretty easy on the eyes, too. Your little boy favors him, but I see you in him, too."

Slightly taken aback, Rachel hesitantly clarified, "Um…he's not my husband."

"Boyfriend?" the woman slyly prodded.

"No," Rachel answered.

"He's your son's father, right?" the now curious woman probed.

"Yes," Rachel confirmed.

"Your son obviously adores him," the woman observed. "And you must feel _something_ for him...after all, he fathered your child…"

"Well…" Rachel faltered.

At that point, Noah and Max approached. "All out of food, Mommy!" Max proudly announced, producing the now empty bag.

"Good job, Max," Rachel praised, retrieving the container from her son. Max looked curiously at the stranger, prompting Rachel to introduce her, "Noah, Max, this is…" she faced the woman and smiling, confessed, "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name."

"Mary…Mary Ackerman," the lady introduced herself.

"Well, then, Mary, this is my son Max and his daddy, Noah."

"Say 'hi' to the nice lady, Max," Noah prompted.

"Hi!" Max greeted the woman.

"Your son is adorable," Mary gushed. "Would you like me to take a picture of the three of you?"

Noah and Rachel glanced at each other before Noah agreed, "Sure; thanks, Mary."

Rachel retrieved her phone and handed it to Mary, who immediately smiled and pointed a few feet away, directing them, "OK, now; stand over there...move in closer…"

Max stood between his parents and Noah instinctively put his right arm around Rachel's shoulders and gently drew her closer.

"Smile everybody!" Mary called out. As they did, she took two pictures. "Got it!" she announced.

Noah withdrew his arm, taking Max's hand in his, instead. Rachel did the same on the other side and they approached Mary who returned Rachel's phone to her.

"Thank you, Mary; that was so kind of you," Rachel acknowledged.

Mary replied, "You're more than welcome." Focusing her attention on Noah, she said, "I was telling…" she paused, looking at Rachel.

"Rachel," she introduced herself.

"Well, I was telling Rachel that I can truly see both of you in him." Grinning impishly, Mary continued, "You two have a child together. You make a cute couple. If you're not 'together'…you should really consider it…" she trailed off.

"Well, ya' see, um…Mary…" Noah hesitantly replied, looking questioningly at Rachel.

"Honestly, Mary…" Rachel began. Spontaneously, Noah and Rachel replied in unison, "It's complicated." An incredulous look passed between them and they both broke out in good-natured laughter.

"I suppose you know what you're doing," Mary conceded. Looking up, she noticed someone motioning to her and she added, "My daughter's calling me over; I guess they're done with the goats for today. A pleasure talking with you," she concluded, walking away to rejoin her family.

"Well…that was odd…" Rachel commented.

Before Noah could reply, Max tugged on his hand. "Daddy, I'm tired," he stated, yawning slightly.

"Let's get you into your stroller," Noah stated, lifting Max up as Rachel removed the current contents, temporarily placing the container on the ground while it was replaced with a sleepy Max. Before Rachel could retrieve the tote, Noah picked it up, placing his left arm through the handle as he started pushing the stroller. Rachel looped her left arm through Noah's right, and the makeshift family left the park, heading back toward Rachel's home.

After walking in companionable silence for a few minutes, Noah mused, "Ya' know, that Mary was right about one thing…"

"What's that, Noah?" Rachel queried, turning her head to look at him.

"Well, we _are_ a couple of good-looking Jews," he teased.

Giggling, Rachel concurred, "Yes, it's true; we are, at that."

* * *

Upon reaching Rachel's apartment, she let them in, disabling the alarm upon entry. After handing the tote bag to Rachel, Noah gently lifted the sleeping boy from his stroller and carried him to his bedroom, where he carefully removed Max's shoes and placed the child in his bed. Rachel entered the room in time to see Noah plant a soft kiss on Max's forehead and whisper "Sweet dreams, buddy…"

Turning around, he smiled fondly at Rachel, exiting the room with her and heading toward the door.

"Thanks again for including me today," Noah quietly acknowledged.

"It was my pleasure, Noah," Rachel confirmed, adding, "I don't think Max would've had it any other way." She paused briefly, observing, "It's nice to see how much you've bonded."

"Yeah," Noah concurred, "he's a great kid."

"I think so…" Rachel agreed.

"His mom's pretty nice, too," Noah teased.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," an amused Rachel responded.

Rachel opened the front door to let Noah out.

"It's been fun, Rachel. See you Thursday," Noah reminded.

"I'm looking forward to it," Rachel confirmed. "Until then…"

As he had previously greeted (or parted with) Rachel, Noah leaned in to kiss Rachel on the cheek. This time, she returned the favor in kind, simultaneously kissing him on the cheek, as well.

"Bye, Noah…" Rachel dreamily called after him as Noah headed toward the elevators. She closed the door, missing him gingerly touch his cheek, smiling contentedly as he waited for the elevator.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Noah, Sam, and Quinn exited the theater, Quinn animatedly recalling the production. However, neither of the men were paying much attention, each partially lost in their own thoughts.

" _I knew she could sing, but, wow…my kid's mom owned that stage tonight…she held her own with those big movie stars, that's for sure…_ " Noah ruminated.

" _Quinn looks better than I remember…_ " Sam mused, smiling at Quinn, who returned the gesture. " _I wonder if she'd go out with me…_ "

"You look really pretty tonight," Sam complimented Quinn as they waited by the stage door.

"Thank you, Sam; that's sweet of you to say," Quinn responded, blushing slightly.

" _Score!_ " Sam thought, grinning. "Did you enjoy the play?" he asked Quinn.

"It was fabulous!" Quinn gushed. "Everybody is so talented…" Glancing around excitedly and watching as various actors left the building, Quinn grinned wildly as she exclaimed, "Ohmyg-d, you guys; this is _so cool_!"

"Chillax, Quinn," Noah advised, teasing, "I haven't seen you this jumpy since you were up for prom queen junior year."

"How would you remember that?" Quinn quickly retorted. "We weren't even there together…"

"You made such a scene when you lost, it took three of your 'Cheeri-ho' buddies to drag your sorry ass out'a the gym," he reminded her. "I don't think anyone who was there will ever forget _that_ meltdown…"

"What _ever_ …" Quinn replied, rolling her eyes. "I've never met a _star_ before, so _excuse me_ for being a little enthusiastic."

" _A little…_ " Sam thought, thoroughly amused as he watched his former high school crush behave more like the schoolgirl he remembered rather than the cool, calm, and collected attorney that she had become.

A few minutes later, Rachel walked out on the arm of her one of her costars. Noticing Rachel's obvious closeness with her companion, Noah instantly felt a bit perturbed (not _jealous_ …never jealous…).

They approached the group and Rachel broke away from her escort, approaching Noah and exchanging kisses on the cheek (to the surprise and amusement of their friends). "Noah, thank you for the flowers," she acknowledged with a smile.

" _Noah?_ " Sam wondered.

" _Flowers?_ " Quinn pondered.

"You're welcome, Rachel," Noah replied. "You said that tulips were your favorite flowers, and I wanted to thank you for the tickets," Noah clarified.

"How nice of you to remember," Rachel complimented. "They're beautiful, and right now, they're brightening up my dressing room.

"I'm glad you like them," Noah replied, smiling at Rachel, their eyes locked.

"Ahem," Quinn quietly cleared her throat.

Suddenly remembering his manners, Noah said, "Oh…sorry…Rachel, let me introduce my friends. These are Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans. We all went to high school together."

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," Rachel acknowledged the person nearest her.

Before Sam had a chance to reply, Quinn all but grabbed Rachel's hand, greeting her, "I'm so happy to meet you, Ms. Berry…"

"Rachel is fine, Quinn," Rachel gently corrected her.

"Gee, thanks, Rachel!" Quinn's smile beamed as she continued to gush, "You were just amazing tonight…I mean…wow…your voice…and working with movie stars like Adam Sandler and Anne Hathaway…that must be _so cool_ …"

"Thank you for the lovely compliment, Quinn," Rachel acknowledged her "fan". "You're right, it's been a wonderful experience. They're fantastic, and I'm honored to work with them."

"And me…" Elliot interjected.

Rachel turned toward Elliot, making eye contact as she teasingly assured him, "Elliot, you know that goes without saying…"

"Just making sure, kiddo," Elliot teased. "I'm Elliot Gilbert, by the way," he introduced himself.

"I'm so sorry, Elliot," Rachel apologized. "Quinn, Noah, Sam, this is Elliot Gilbert. Elliot is one of my closest friends, and he was 'Sky Masterson' in the show."

Before Quinn could compliment (and flirt with) Elliot, he turned to Noah and jovially remarked, "So you must be the 'Daddy' I've heard so much about. I can _definitely_ see the resemblance. It's nice to finally meet you," he admitted, warmly shaking Noah's hand.

"Wait…you know Max?" Noah queried.

"Since the day he was born," a smiling Elliot proudly admitted.

Noah looked confusedly at Rachel, who explained to the group, "Elliot and I met at NYU; I was in my first show, there, in the chorus of 'Carousel', and Elliot was playing 'Billy Bigelow', the male lead."

"I came early to a rehearsal," Elliot continued the anecdote, "and found Rachel at the piano, singing 'If I Loved You'. I asked if she'd mind singing with me so I could warm up, and we've been friends ever since."

"Even though our characters don't interact very much, it's still been fun working together," Rachel added.

"Never a dull moment…" Elliot teased.

" _Elliot_ …" Rachel whined playfully, gently nudging her friend in the ribs with her elbow.

"Well…" Sam interjected, "I think you _both_ did a great job, tonight. Even Puck enjoyed it, didn't ya'?"

All eyes turned toward Noah as he admitted, "Yeah, it was a lot a' fun. And, now I get the 'chicken song' thing…"

"Chicken song?" Quinn puzzled.

Smiling, Rachel explained, "Max likes when I sing 'A Bushel and A Peck" to him before he goes to sleep; he calls it the 'chicken song'."

The group laughed good-naturedly at Rachel's explanation.

"I don't know about you guys," Sam interjected, "but I could really go for something to eat."

"How about deli?" Rachel proposed. "There's a good one about a block from here. We usually eat there between shows on matinee days."

"As long as the coffee's good, count me in," Quinn weighed in.

* * *

Placing his mug on the table, Noah remarked, "Rachel, thanks again for Sunday. I had a blast."

"It was our pleasure, Noah," Rachel acknowledged.

"Sunday?" Elliot queried.

"Yeah; what happened on Sunday?" Quinn curiously chimed in.

"Noah accompanied us to the Central Park Zoo on Sunday," Rachel explained. "I have some pictures on my phone…" Rachel's attention was temporarily diverted as she located and removed her cellphone from her handbag and located the pictures from their excursion, handing the phone to Elliot (who was seated to her immediate right). Sharing the phone with Quinn and Sam, Elliot scanned through the pictures.

"Your little boy is adorable," Quinn complimented.

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel replied.

"Thanks," Noah (seated at Rachel's left) responded simultaneously. They glanced at each other before breaking out in mutual laughter.

As he was scrolling through the pictures, Elliot suddenly paused, grinning slyly as he remarked, "Well, Rach, this certainly is a cozy little family shot…"

Rachel quizzically looked at Elliot, posing, "Sorry, Elliot; I don't understand."

Three pairs of eyes shifted from Rachel's phone to Rachel and Noah, who looked at each other confusedly. Elliot returned the phone to Rachel, who, along with Noah briefly studied at the image on the screen.

"Oh, _that…_ " she vaguely replied.

"Yeah, _that_ ," Elliot parroted.

"It _is_ a good picture," Noah remarked quietly to Rachel, who nodded in agreement, a glimmer of a smile forming.

Rachel quickly explained, "This lady at the zoo, Mary, asked if we wanted a group shot, and we complied."

"Anything more you'd care to tell us?" Quinn teased.

"Nothing to tell," Noah answered succinctly.

"Truly, nothing; it's just a picture," Rachel hastily added.

"OK; whatever you say," Quinn acquiesced. As Rachel returned her phone to her purse and Noah helped himself to another bite, Quinn leaned toward Sam and whispered, "They were both 'protesting too much'…ya' know, Sam?"

Grinning, Sam nodded in agreement, whispering back, "I think so, too."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note** : Guys, sorry it took me so long to get back to the story. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 15

Changing the subject, Quinn complimented, "Rachel, everybody was _wonderful_ tonight…"

"Thank you so much, Quinn," Rachel responded after taking a sip of tea.

"It was a great show," Quinn continued. "I'm curious, though; do you know why they chose this play?"

Nodding, Rachel explained "Michael Chang…he's our director…was just finishing a movie with Annie…Anne Hathaway…for Disney…an updated remake of 'Bringing Up Baby'…you know, that old Katharine Hepburn movie…it'll be released Thanksgiving weekend, by the way…but I digress," she added with a grin.

"In any case, they approached Mike about directing a revival of 'Guys and Dolls', which they'd recently purchased the rights to and which was going to be their next Broadway production. He thought Annie would be perfect for 'Sister Sarah' and she was excited to make her Broadway debut, so they both signed onto the project from the get-go."

"How'd Adam Sandler get involved?" Sam probed.

Rachel answered, "Apparently Mike and Annie were on 'The Tonight Show' promoting the movie and Jimmy Fallon asked about the play, which had recently been announced. Adam happened to be a guest that night and he remarked that he'd been in the chorus in his High School production. Apparently, they all reminisced for a few minutes about their high school performing careers, and then Mike spontaneously asked Adam if he'd consider joining the cast. And the rest, as they say, is 'history'."

"And you two…" Quinn prodded.

"Elliot and I have the same agent, and she recommended us and set up auditions," Rachel answered. "Instead of picking something from the score, I sang 'As Long As He Needs Me' from Oliver, but as 'Miss Adelaide'. My friend, Kurt suggested it, and, apparently, it worked. Mike told me that he remembered me from 'Wicked'…"

"You were in Wicked?" Quinn excitedly interjected.

"Yes, I played 'Nessarose' for 18 months," Rachel replied. "I had recently ended my run, there, so the timing was perfect." Turning the tables, Rachel inquired, "Quinn, I understand that you're Noah's attorney. Did you always want to be a lawyer?"

"Actually, I went to Yale hoping to be accepted into their Drama program," Quinn confessed, smiling nostalgically.

"Ya' always _were_ a 'drama queen', Noah interjected."

"Takes one to know one, Puckerman," Quinn retorted.

"Come on, kiddies," Sam teased, "play nice, now."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn continued, "Turns out that my talents were better suited to courtroom drama. Long story short, I refocused my major and never looked back." Smiling contentedly, she added, "I enjoy my work and I'm good at what I do, so I know I made the right choice."

"How about you, Sam?" Rachel asked, smiling as she turned her attention toward Sam. "Noah told me that you're a teacher. Do you have plans for this summer?"

"Yeah, I do," Sam acknowledged with a shy grin. "We have a summer band program for middle and high school students. There are three of us who run the program; a high school band director, another middle school teacher, and me. We meet with the kids three days a week and have a concert the middle of August. The kids who enroll can't afford going to an arts camp and wanna keep up with their music over the summer. They seem to have a good time and the concert raises money for travel expenses to solo and ensemble festivals and band competitions."

"Elliot, didn't you play the clarinet in high school?" Rachel asked her friend. His resulting response evolved into a sidebar conversation between Rachel, Noah, and Elliot, although Quinn and Sam remained on topic.

"That's really…nice, Sam," Quinn quietly commended.

"Thanks, Quinn," Sam acknowledged the compliment. Emboldened by her response, he added, "You should totally come to our concert", looking hopefully at her while he offered the invitation.

Smiling shyly, Quinn accepted, "I think I'd like that, Sam."

"Cool," Sam replied, thinking, " _FINALLY! Now, if I can just get her to go out with me…but, like, not in front of an audience…_ " He continued, "I'll call you as soon as the dates are firmed up."

Quinn nodded in understanding before catching Rachel's eye and inquiring, "Rachel, I think I read in 'The New York Times' that this was a little different than previous revivals. In what way?"

After finishing her current bite of food and sipping her tea, Rachel explained, "When the play opened in 1950, the actors were dressed in contemporary clothes. Most of the revivals pay homage to that by costuming it similarly. Damon Runyon's stories actually were written in the 1930s, and Mike's 'vision' was to reflect that era, instead."

"Rachel, didn't you tell me that Adam Sandler asked for some changes?" Noah recalled.

Smiling fondly, she posed, "You remember the scene where 'Adelaide' is enumerating the lies she wrote to her mother?"

Nodding in acknowledgement, Noah replied, "Yeah, I think so."

Rachel explained, "In the original script, 'Adelaide' calls the boy 'Nathan Jr.', and 'Nathan' asks if there is an 'Adelaide, Jr.', too. Adam reminded Mike that Jewish people don't name their children after themselves, so they changed the names to 'Isaac' and 'Sarah'."

"And, like, at the end where you're supposed to be getting married and he pulls a yarmulke out of his pocket and puts it on his head?" Sam added.

"Yarmulke?" Noah sardonically queried.

"Puck, after all these years, what'd you expect me to call it? A ' _little hat-thingy'_?" Sam jibed.

Noah caught Sam's eye and the two friends broke out laughing.

" _Any_ way, Rachel spoke up, "actually, yes," she confirmed, adding, "as well as having one of the chorus men dress up as a rabbi and approach us. There were a couple of other things...like removing the 'church' from 'church bells' in 'Adelaide's Lament'…but the majority of the script was pretty much verbatim."

"Have you guys met any other movie stars, yet?" Quinn excitedly prodded.

"Hugh Jackman and his wife were there with their kids opening night," Elliot confided.

"You met ' _Wolverine_ '?" Sam excitedly interjected.

Smiling broadly, Rachel answered, "Yes, we did. They came backstage after the show to congratulate Annie and were very kind to all of us. My fathers were there, too, and Dad practically swooned when she introduced them," she added with a chuckle.

"Anyone else?" Quinn inquired.

"Well, a couple of Adam's friends from 'SNL', like Seth Myers and Jimmy Fallon have stopped by with their wives," Rachel added. "The show's only been open a few weeks, after all."

"How long will it run?" Noah asked.

"It'll be around 20 months," Elliot confirmed. "We'll close after the holiday season next year."

"And those movie stars signed on for the entire run?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Rachel confirmed. "It's pretty rare, but they're as committed to the show as the rest of us. I imagine they'll have another movie or something lined up by then…"

"What'll you do, Rachel…when it ends, I mean…" Quinn puzzled.

"Honestly, who knows?" Rachel responded with a smile. "That's a long way off. Probably go into another show or a workshop…"

Suppressing a yawn, Noah glanced at his watch. Noting the time, he announced, "Guys, I hate to cut this short, but I've gotta catch a flight to LA tomorrow morning." Catching Rachel's eye, he explained, "I'll be there until Saturday night and then I'm stopping by Ma's for a couple of days. Please tell Max that I'll call him on Tuesday, once I'm back in town."

"Of course, Noah; thanks for letting me know," Rachel acknowledged. "I'll be sure to tell him."

After a few minutes of good-natured arguing, Noah and Sam split the bill (everyone assumed they would pay their share and Noah wanted to treat, but Sam insisted on paying half). The group left the deli and waved good-bye to Quinn, who had already arranged for an Uber.

"Do you need an escort home, Rachel?" Noah quietly inquired.

"Thanks, Noah," Rachel replied, smiling shyly, "I appreciate the offer. Elliot will see me home. You have a safe trip." She kissed him on the cheek and gently squeezed his left hand with her right. "I'll…I mean, Max will look forward to hearing from you next week." Linking her left arm through Elliot's right one, she added, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Sam."

"Same here, Rachel," Sam confirmed. "I can't wait to meet my 'nephew'."

"Oh, yeah…" Noah added. "I almost forgot…we have a Fourth of July party every year. You're welcome to bring your friends, too…um…is it 'Kurt' and 'Blaine'?"

Grinning, Rachel nodded, adding "Thank you, Noah. I'll pass the invitation along."

"Elliot, I hope you can make it, too," Noah extended the invitation.

"Thanks, Noah; I appreciate it," Elliot accepted. "I'll be out of town visiting my family, though, so I'll have to take a raincheck."

"If your plans change, you're welcome to join us," Noah added.

"Thanks, man," Elliot answered. At that moment, the Uber Rachel had requested pulled up. "Our carriage has arrived, milady," he teased.

"Good night, guys," Rachel called out as she slid into the car.

As they drove away, Sam commented, "She's quite a gal; isn't she, Puck?"

"Yeah; she is," he agreed, smiling bemusedly as the car pulled away.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The incessant ringing of the telephone roused Rachel from her semi-medicated slumber. " _He…hello_ ," she hesitantly croaked into the phone.

" _Rachel? Is that you? What's wrong?_ " Noah worriedly inquired.

" _Noah?_ " Rachel hoarsely queried.

" _Yeah, It's me_ ," Noah confirmed. " _Are you OK? You sound terrible._ "

" _I'm sick…virus…should be better in a couple of days,_ " Rachel replied, barely above a whisper.

" _Is Max OK?_ " Noah asked.

" _Yes, he's fine, Noah,_ " Rachel assured him. " _He's on a play date now. His nanny should be bringing him back in a couple of hours. You can call and talk to him then. I'm gonna let you go…_ "

Smiling slyly (which Rachel of course couldn't see), Noah interjected, " _Rachel, it sounds like you need a dose of 'Nana Connie's Kosher penicillin'._ _I'll be by in about a half hour and whip you up a batch._ "

" _Noah, that's so sweet of you, but I'm sure you have much better things to do…_ " Rachel protested.

" _Rachel, I won't take 'no' for an answer,_ " Noah affirmed. " _Gotta take care of my 'baby mama'..._ "

" _Noah, I am_ _not_ _your 'baby mama'_ ," Rachel disagreed.

" _Max is my son; you're his mother…that makes you my 'baby mama' by default,_ " Noah reasoned. " _By the way, will you eat chicken soup? I noticed you eat mostly vegetables…_ "

" _Occasionally_ ," Rachel admitted, a tired smile on her face. " _Max definitely will._ "

" _I'll see you in about a half-hour, then,_ " Noah firmed up his arrival, adding " _Will you be able to let me in?_ "

" _I may be under the weather, but I can still open the door,_ " Rachel confirmed. " _Thank you, Noah. I really appreciate it._ "

" _Any time, Rachel. See you soon,_ " Noah replied, ending the call.

* * *

Clad in yoga pants and a shapeless sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, Rachel welcomed a grocery-laden Noah into her home. He looked her over concernedly, proclaiming, "Sorry, Rach, but with all due respect, ya' look like crap." Noticing her choice of footwear, he laughed, jibing, "Nice shoes, Berry; did a unicorn throw up on your feet?"

Smiling at his description of her rainbow colored sequin covered slippers, she replied, "Funny, that's what Max calls them; my 'unicorn shoes'." Coughing discreetly into her right bicep, she weakly continued, "Unfortunately, I'm afraid 'what you see is what you get', today." Noticing his full arms, she exclaimed, "My gosh, Noah; did you buy out the store?"

"I got the 'fixings' for my Nana's chicken soup, plus some extra orange juice to make sure you get plenty of vitamin C. Got a nice bread from the Deli in case Max wants a chicken sandwich, too," Noah explained as Rachel led him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and began extracting the contents, describing each in turn: "We have carrots, celery, kohlrabi, parsnip, parsley root, a white onion, a Kosher soup chicken…Nana insists that it makes the best soup…and her 'secret ingredient'…" he held up a small box, continuing, "Manischewitz Matzo Ball Mix." ( **A.N.** pronounced "mahn-a-shev-itz")

Unable to suppress her (weak) laughter, Rachel commented, "Your Nana's 'secret' is the same as my Bubbe's. She said that once she discovered it, she never made matzo balls from scratch, again."

Noah rinsed off the carton of juice in the sink and dried it off with a paper towel, opening the refrigerator briefly to place it on the shelf. As Rachel approached the cabinet that housed the pots and pans, Noah stopped her. "Just sit here and direct me, Rachel," he insisted, leading her to one of the chairs around the kitchen table. "Tell me where everything is, and I'll get this soup started."

"Wait…I've got something for you, first," Rachel temporarily halted Noah's actions, fishing around in her sweater pocket and retrieving a key, which she held out to him.

"What's that, Rachel?" Noah asked, eying the object quizzically.

"My key, Noah…if I'm sleeping when you leave, you can lock up, she pragmatically explained. "And, if you babysit for Max, you can let yourself in."

"You're sure, Rach?" he posed, noting her slight smile at the nickname.

"Of course, Noah; I trust you," Rachel affirmed. "If you don't feel comfortable keeping it, you can always return it the next time I see you."

"Well, thank you; I appreciate it," Noah acknowledged as she placed it in his open palm. He removed his keys from his jacket pocket and added it onto the keychain. "Now, getting back to the task at hand…" he teased while returning the keychain to its "home".

"The meat pots are in that cabinet…" Rachel pointed toward the left.

"Meat?" Noah queried. "Do you keep Kosher?"

"Yes, actually, I do," Rachel admitted. "We didn't, originally, but when Andi was pregnant, my Bubbe insisted that she raise her son in a Kosher home. She said that it was part of his birthright and too many people had moved away from it…quite frankly, like us. Andi thought about it and decided she was right, and, here we are…"

"My Nana keeps Kosher…my mom, too," Noah confided, "but living with Sam, we don't…it just doesn't make sense for us."

"I understand completely," Rachel acknowledged. "Anyway, the pots are there, the utensils are in the drawer above it, and the blue sponge is for the meat dishes.

"Thanks, Rach," Noah acknowledged.

Smiling softly (again) at the nickname, Rachel coughed discretely into her right bicep, tiredly watching as Noah retrieved the pots he needed.

Glancing concernedly at Rachel, Noah chuckled, assuring, "Rachel, I do know my way around a kitchen, so don't worry. I'll come to you if I have questions. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable…"

Before Rachel could protest, Noah scooped her up from the kitchen chair.

"Noah, I'm not incapacitated…" she weekly protested.

"Rach, please; you need to rest, now." He bounced her lightly in his arms as if to gauge her weight, speculating, "I'll bet I bench press at least twice your weight." Gently drawing her a bit closer, Rachel snuggled in as he walked the few steps to her living room, depositing her safely on the sofa. A look momentarily passed between them…was it longing…attraction…whatever it was, they quickly broke eye contact, Noah diverting his attention to the crocheted comforter pushed to the side near Rachel (and missing the blush that briefly tinged her cheeks). He tucked it up around her, commenting, "My Nana made one for me when I went to college…it's scarlet and gray…OSU colors."

"I'm sure it's beautiful," Rachel commented.

"Kept me warm, that's for sure," Noah remarked. "Still does. Well, I'm gonna get that soup going; call me if you need me." He patted her platonically on the shoulder and returned promptly to the kitchen. Rachel emitted a soft sigh, curled up, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Mommy…Mommy!" roused Rachel from her nap (an hour or so later).

"I'm in the living room, Max. What is it?" Rachel groggily responded, stretching her shoulders before pulling herself up to sitting.

"Max, tell your mother what happened," David, Max's nanny calmly insisted. "Go on," he prodded; "I'll be back in a minute." Before leaving the room, he made eye contact with the child, nodding his head in encouragement.

"What happened, Max?" Rachel posed.

Max dejectedly looked at the ground, saying nothing.

"Come on, Max; tell Mommy," Rachel prodded.

Eyes remaining downcast, Max dejectedly revealed, "I got tired of coloring and I wanted to play Legos but Gregory still wanted to color so I threw a crayon at him."

"Max, you know we don't throw things, especially at other people," Rachel gently admonished.

Before she could continue, Noah entered the room. Max ran over to him, hugging him around the knees.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Max exclaimed.

"Hey buddy!" Noah greeted Max, ruffling his curls.

"Max, you'll have excuse yourself, now. I expect you to spend ten minutes in the timeout chair and think about what you did today."

"Ten minutes? That's _forever_ ," Max whined.

"I'll call you when it's time," Rachel informed him. "Now, go on, Max."

As Max reluctantly retreated to his timeout chair, Noah whispered, "What'd he do?"

"He threw a crayon at his friend when he didn't get his way," Rachel explained, whispering back.

Before Noah had a chance to reply, Max's nanny reentered the room, his face registering extreme surprise at Noah's presence.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Puckerman?" David called out.

"Karofsky?" Noah incredulously responded.

"You _know_ each other?" Rachel interjected.

"Yeah; we went to high school together," Noah explained. Turning to David, he queried, "You're Max's nanny? Last thing I heard, you went to U of M to play hockey."

"I did," David admitted. "Broke my collarbone freshman year and decided that professional sports weren't for me. I figured that if a pro hockey career was off the table, I'd do something to help kids, so I got my Bachelor's in Social Work. I received a scholarship to Columbia and moved to New York for my master's." He looked curiously at Noah, asking, "How do you know Rachel?"

"I'm Max's father," Noah proudly admitted. "Rachel tracked me down about a month ago." He looked at David curiously, posing, "If you don't mind my asking, how'd you go from social work to being a Nanny?"

" _Is it time, yet?_ " Max whined from the other room.

"No, honey; I'll tell you when ten minutes is up," Rachel tiredly called out. Looking toward David, she encouraged, "Please continue, David."

"Thanks, Rachel," David acknowledged, somberly explaining, "I was working at an inpatient facility for kids with emotional problems. A 16 year old patient committed suicide, and I was one of the people who found him. I needed a 'career break' after that. I happened to meet Rachel's friend, Elliot at a party around the same time she was looking for a nanny. One thing led to another, and, here I am. Once Max has outgrown his 'nanny phase', I'll probably return to social work," he concluded.

Rachel sipped from her water bottle quietly observing the men as they caught up. After a few minutes, she glanced at her watch and announced, "Max, your ten minutes are up."

Max came bounding in from the other room, eyes set on Noah.

"Just a minute, Max," Rachel stopped him. "Have you learned anything from your 'time out'?"

"Um…not to throw things at people?" Max hesitantly answered.

"Good, Max," Rachel commended. "Anything else?" she posed.

"Um…no?" Max responded.

Rachel coughed lightly into her arm before explaining, "When you're playing with somebody, sometimes you have to do what they want instead of what you'd like to do. That's called 'compromising'. Do you understand, Max?"

"Yeah…I guess so," Max quietly replied.

"OK, Max," Rachel acknowledged with a smile. "I'd ask for a hug, but I don't want you getting sick. You may hug David and Daddy, though."

As instructed, Max hugged each man in turn. Glancing up at Noah, he asked, "Daddy, do you know David?"

"Yeah, Max," Noah confirmed, "we went to high school together. We even were on the same football team."

Turning to David, Max inquired, "Did you play football, David?"

"Yeah, and hockey, too," David revealed.

"Did you play hockey, Daddy?" Max asked Noah.

"Not hockey, Max, but I was on the baseball and basketball teams," Noah admitted.

"I wanna play baseball…will you teach me to play, Daddy?" Max requested.

"As long as your Mommy says it's OK," Noah deferred to Rachel.

Max turned expectantly to Rachel, pleading, "Can I, mommy? _Please_ …"

"I'm sure that'll be fine, Max," Rachel approved. "Daddy knows what kind of equipment to get; right Daddy?" she posed.

"Yep; I do," Noah confirmed with a grin. "When you come with Mommy to the 4th of July picnic, maybe we can start. Dave," Noah switched focus to David, "you're welcome to join us. I'm sure Sam and Artie will be happy to see you."

"Thanks, Puck!" David appreciatively accepted. "That'll be great! What're they up to these days?"

"Sam's a teacher and Artie's a sound engineer at Atlantic Records," he explained, adding, "Artie and Tina…you remember Tina Cohen-Chang?"

Dave nodded in response.

Noah continued, "They got married a few years ago, and they have a two year old daughter, Madison."

"Will the doggy be there?" Max hopefully probed.

"Yes, she will, Max," Noah confirmed.

"Oh, boy, Mommy! A doggy!" Max exclaimed, causing the adults to laugh good-naturedly.

Instantly switching from enthusiastic to curious, Max asked Noah, "Daddy, why are you here?"

Looking directly at the boy, Noah told him, "Max, since your mommy is sick, I came here to here to help her get better."

"How's that, Daddy?" Max inquired.

"I whipped up a batch of 'Nana Connie's Kosher Penicillin'. It's guaranteed to cure just about anything, according to my Nana," Noah teasingly explained.

"What's that, Mommy?" Max puzzled.

"Daddy made chicken soup, Max," Rachel clarified.

"Yum!" Max exclaimed.

"It should be ready in about a half hour," Noah clarified.

"David, you're welcome to join us," Rachel invited.

"Thanks, Rachel, but I have other plans," David replied. Glancing at his watch, he announced, "I'd better take off, so I'm not late. Puck," he extended his right hand to Noah, who shook hands with David, "great to catch up. Thanks again for the invite. Good night, everybody!" After exchanging final pleasantries, David left the apartment.

"Are ya' hungry, buddy?" Noah asked Max.

"Yeah!" Max enthusiastically confirmed. "I love chicken soup. Mommy's is the _best_."

"Well, I hope this is _almost_ as good," Noah teased.

"I'm sure it's delicious," Rachel affirmed. Looking at her son, she instructed, "OK, Max; go wash your hands and you can help Daddy set the table."

As Max trotted off to follow his mother's instructions, Rachel questioned Noah, "Are you sure that there's nothing I can do to help?"

"Just eat your soup like a good girl and leave the rest to me and Max," Noah directed, winking.

"Yes, sir," Rachel teased back.

"Good," Noah affirmed. "Otherwise, I'd have to tell Nana Connie on you."

"Who's that?" Max, who had reentered the room, caught the tail end of the conversation.

"That's my grandma…your great-grandma," Noah explained.

"I have a great-grandma?" Max excitedly asked. "I have a Grandma Jean, but I don't have a great-grandma. Can I meet her?"

"Maybe someday, buddy," Noah evasively replied. "Come on, Max; let's get dinner on the table," he quickly changed the subject, taking the boy by the hand and leading him to the kitchen.

* * *

"Noah, the soup was excellent," Rachel complimented.

"Yeah, Daddy; it was yummy," Max concurred.

"I think I'm feeling better, already," Rachel optimistically avowed.

"You just keep on eating that soup, and you should be good to go in a couple of days," Noah instructed.

"Yes, sir," Rachel teasingly concurred. She stood up and began clearing the table.

"Just what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Noah queried. Before Rachel had a chance to reply, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room, depositing her again on the sofa as Max giggled at their antics. "You need to rest; doctor's orders."

"Yes, Doctor Noah," Rachel teasingly replied.

Taking the remote, Noah turned the TV on and switched it to the Nickelodeon channel, finding "Spongebob Squarepants" in mid-episode. "OK, Max," Noah announced, "you watch TV with Mommy while I clean up."

"Dessert?" Max hopefully queried.

"Daddy will bring you an applesauce cup, and you may eat it here," Rachel informed him. "When Daddy is finished, we'll get you ready for bed."

Momentarily retreating to the kitchen, Noah selected a clean spoon from the drawer and retrieved a container of applesauce from the pantry. After removing and disposing of the foil lid, he returned to the living room, presenting Max with his dessert.

"What do you say to Daddy?" Rachel tiredly prompted Max.

Eyes glued to the TV, Max hastily swallowed the spoonful of applesauce, quickly responding, "Thank you, Daddy," before taking another mouthful.

Chuckling, Noah replied, "You're welcome, Buddy." Glancing at Rachel, he concernedly asked, "Sure you're OK, Rach?"

Stifling a yawn, Rachel reassured, "Yes, thank you, Noah; I'm fine."

As Noah retreated to the kitchen, Rachel snuggled into the sofa, pulling the comforter closer.

After the dishes had been washed and the soup refrigerated, Noah returned to the living room to find his son engrossed in the current program and Rachel fast asleep on the sofa. Noah picked up the remote and shut off the TV. Max glanced up, mouth opened to complain when Noah placed his index finger to his lips and quietly said "Shhhh… Mommy's sleeping. Let's get her in bed and give you a bath." As Max stood up, Noah tenderly gathered Rachel into his arms. "Come on, Max," he whispered, "Let's go."

Although not wakened, Rachel adjusted herself into Noah's arms and sighed contentedly. They made their way toward Rachel's bedroom, where Noah gently deposited Rachel onto her unmade bed, pulling the covers over her. "Come on, Max; let's get you washed up," he whispered, taking Max by the hand and ushering him out of the room.

* * *

Teeth brushed, face washed, and freshly bathed and dried, Max scurried off to his bedroom while Noah tidied up the bathroom. Entering his son's bedroom shortly thereafter, he tucked Max in, asking, "Would you like me to read a story, Max?"

"No, Daddy; I'm pretty tired," Max admitted with a small yawn.

"That's OK, Buddy. I'll say 'good night', then," Noah replied.

"Daddy, are you goin' home, now?" Max inquired.

"Yeah, Max," Noah replied. "I've gotta go to work tomorrow."

"You can sleep here, Daddy," Max offered. "My bed is too little, but Mommy's bed has lots of room; you can sleep with her. She won't mind."

Managing to keep a straight face, Noah responded, "Mommy needs to rest and get better, and I don't think it would be nice to disturb her."

"I guess…" Max dejectedly concurred. "Are ya' sure, Daddy?"

"Yes, Max, very sure," Noah confirmed. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, though."

"Thanks, Daddy," Max sleepily acknowledged Noah, yawning as he snuggled into his bed for the night.

Noah watched over his son as he drifted off to sleep. He stood up, leaving the room to check on Rachel. He found her sleeping soundly, hair askew on the pillow and over her face. Tenderly brushing it out of her eyes, he whispered, "Good night, 'Sleeping Beauty'." Smiling softly, he planted a light kiss on her forehead. Satisfied, Noah gathered up his belongings, shut the lights off, and let himself out.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"…And then he said, ' _If they look like you, baby, then they can harass me all they want_ '," Quinn recalled, mimicking the man's suggestive tone.

"So, what did you say?" Blaine inquired.

"Thank you; next candidate, please," she answered, laughing along with the table.

Rachel sipped her lemonade, smiling softly as she observed how easily her friends blended with Noah's. Blaine and Quinn had struck an immediate bond over their shared profession, and Kurt lazily stroked Roxy, Noah's dog, who had gravitated toward the dog owner in the group and settled herself contentedly at his feet. Hearing her son's familiar laughter, she turned in the general direction, finding him in a lively game of catch with Sam and David.

"Over here, Uncle Sammy!" Max called, reaching out as he eagerly waited for Sam to toss the (age appropriate) ball his way.

"Your little boy is adorable," Tina Abrams complemented Rachel, holding her little girl, Madison in her lap as they sat. "He really looks like you."

"Thank you, Tina," Rachel accepted her kind words, refocusing her attention on her new acquaintance, although choosing not to delve into Max's lineage. "Your daughter is precious," she returned the compliment. "She's such a good baby…Max was never so complacent."

"She's a calm one, alright," Tina agreed, "just like her Daddy."

Tina nodded in Artie's direction, where he was methodically setting up the grill to begin cooking dinner. Sensing his wife's attention, he temporarily stopped and rolled himself over to the table. The child immediately grew animated, calling out "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" and holding her chubby little arms out toward him. Artie reached out for his daughter, taking her in his arms and retrieving her from her mother's lap.

"'Wide', Daddy!" Madison insisted, grinning infectiously.

Obliging, Artie slowly spun his chair around, his daughter's giggling gleefully all the while.

"Artie's sister has two kids, but she's the first grandchild on my side," Tina confided to Rachel. "My mom is already hinting around about a 'little sister or brother', but I've got my hands full right now."

"I can certainly appreciate that," Rachel agreed.

Before the conversation could continue, Noah approached, grinning from ear to ear. He leaned down, placing his arm around Rachel's shoulders and boasting, "Our son's gonna be an athlete; check it out…" He gently swiveled her torso toward Max, laughing uproariously and triumphantly holding the ball in his hands while Sam and David cheered him on.

Sam swooped the boy up, placing him on his shoulders and proclaiming, "The future star catcher for the Cleveland Indians…Max Berry!"

"Mommy! Daddy! Look at me!" Max called out from Sam's shoulders, giggling and waving at Rachel and Noah.

"C'mon, Rach; let's get our boy," Noah suggested.

Rachel stood up, Noah's arm wrapping around her waist as they walked toward their son, unaware that they had caught the attention of everyone still seated around the table.

"How long have they been seeing each other?" Quinn curiously posed.

"They're not…seeing each other, that is," Blaine answered.

"At least, that's what _she_ says," Kurt added, grinning mischievously. "I know he calls every night to talk to Max, but from what Rachel told me, they spend a lot of time on the phone, themselves."

"They get together every Sunday," Blaine knowingly added, "and do something with Max."

"In fact," Kurt excitedly interrupted, "from what I gathered, he took care of her a couple of weeks ago when she was sick…I think he made chicken soup, or something like that…"

"Puck _cooked_ for her?" Quinn incredulously interjected. "He's been with a lot of women over the years, and I'm pretty certain he never made soup for them."

"I'll tell ya', if Puck's mother knew about this, she'd be all over Rachel; that's for sure," Tina added. "I mean, Ms. 'P' is cool and all, but she's been after Puck since high school to find a 'nice Jewish girl' and start makin' babies."

"That's all Rachel needs…" Kurt whispered to Blaine, "…a meddling mother-in-law."

"Kurt, they're not married," Blaine reminded him.

" _Yet…_ " Kurt sardonically added, kissing Blaine on the cheek.

"She doesn't seem the type, though," Tina mused, changing the topic.

"What type?" Blaine pondered.

"The type to sleep with a guitar player at a music festival, then disappear into the night," Tina clarified.

"She's not, and Andi really wasn't either," Blaine defended his friends.

"Who's 'Andy?" Tina inquired.

"Max's biological mother," Blaine explained. "Didn't you know?"

"I had no idea," an obviously surprised Tina insisted. "I mean…Puck never said anything…just that he found out he had a kid…a son."

"Andi was Rachel's best friend," Blaine confided. "She died suddenly when Max was six months old. Per her wishes, Rachel adopted him; she's really the only mother he's ever known."

"Is that why Puck only met them now?" Tina prodded.

"Yeah," Blaine confirmed. "Rachel had no idea who the father was. We were going through some of Andi's things a few months ago and found the CD he'd autographed. Rachel put the pieces together and met with her attorney within a couple of days. She figured he had a right to know."

"Wasn't she worried…you know…about him asserting his rights, or something?" Tina posed.

"Tina, a man who never contacts any of the women he's been intimate with to find out whether or not they had a child has no parental rights," Blaine patiently explained. "So, to answer your question, Tina, Rachel wasn't worried at all."

"They do seem well-suited, though…" Kurt slyly mused.

"I agree," Quinn concurred. "I just wish we could, like, get them together. I've known Puck forever, though, and he'd resist it like the plague."

"So would Rachel," Kurt concurred. After a thoughtful pause, Kurt inquired, "Say, Quinn, is Noah the jealous type?"

"He can be very possessive, if that's what you mean," Quinn responded.

"That'll work," Kurt decided. He turned toward his husband, inquiring, "Honey, didn't you tell me that your firm just hired a new attorney?"

"Yeah," Blaine confirmed. "Nice guy; single, early thirties, not bad looking…name's Ben, I think…"

"Do you think he'd be agreeable to being fixed up?" Kurt proposed.

"With Rachel?" Blaine asked.

"Of course 'with Rachel'," Kurt laughingly replied, expanding on his plan. "The theater's dark on Mondays, and, if we set this up 'right', Noah will know about it, we'll be 'unavailable' to sit for Max, I'm sure he'll willingly volunteer, and I'll bet he 'stakes his claim' in short order."

"I don't know…" Blaine hesitated. "I don't think he's Rachel's type…all he talks about…aside from work…is fishing."

"It's better if they aren't interested in each other," Kurt insisted. "If they were, that would spoil _everything_."

" _Actually_ ," Quinn interjected, "I think this might just work. Puck was always more attentive when another guy was flirting with me."

Kurt and Blaine looked at her curiously, causing Quinn to hastily add, "I mean, we were only 15, but, like they say, 'leopards don't change their spots'…"


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Noah and Rachel, who were otherwise engaged with Max, had no idea that they were the current topic of conversation. Noah had taken over for Sam, and now Max was perched on his father's shoulders, chattering happily. Noah's preoccupation with Max (and Max's mother) was broken only when he heard Sam call out, "Hey, Jake! Glad you could make it."

Noah's eyes widened at the name "Jake", and he glanced away to see his brother and roommate embrace. Jake's face registered incredulity when he noticed his older brother's companions. He quickly excused himself from Sam and strode over to Noah.

"Hey, big brother; Happy July 4th!" Jake exclaimed. He glanced up at Max, posing, "Who have we here?"

"Great to see you, too, Jake," Noah replied, hesitantly adding, "Didn't think you were coming…"

"Yeah…well…Marley needed to get away for a few days…wedding plans are really getting to her," Jake explained.

"Where's Marley?" Noah inquired.

"Back in the car, hashing it out with one of the vendors…not sure which one," Jake explained.

"On a holiday?" Noah questioned.

"You'd be surprised…" Jake retorted, his voice reflecting his frustration with the whole wedding planning endeavor. "She'll be along in a few…So…" he addressed Rachel with a friendly grin, effectively returning to what Noah had evaded, "I'm Jake, Puck's brother. Who are you?"

"I'm Rachel Berry," she introduced herself, tilting her head up toward the little boy, smiling fondly as she added, "and this is Max."

"Jake, Max is my son, and Rachel is his mother," Noah clarified, lifting the child from his shoulders and placing him gently on the ground. Squatting down, Noah made eye contact with Max, suggesting, "Max, why don't you and Mommy go and see if Roxy'd like some company?"

"Oh, boy! Doggy!" Max excitedly responded. Taking Rachel's hand, he insisted, "Let's go see the doggy, Mommy!"

"OK, honey," Rachel complied, flashing a curious look at Noah before she and Max headed back toward the others.

As soon as Rachel and Max were safely out of earshot, Noah earnestly pleaded, "Jake, you've _gotta_ promise _not_ to say a word to your mom. Ma doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way for a while."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Jake countered.

"C'mon, Jake; you know my mother," Noah reminded him. "The last thing I need is Ma hopping on the next flight here, inserting herself right into the middle of this and basically fuckin' everything up for me."

"You have a point…" Jake conceded.

"Anything you say to your mom will be repeated to mine as soon as your back is turned," Noah surmised. "This is still kinda new…I don't want her scaring off Rachel and taking Max away from me."

"How long have you been keeping this 'little' secret, anyway?" Jake posed.

"Barely two months," Noah answered. "It's kinda complicated…"

"How so?" Jake probed.

Noah explained, "Rachel's not Max's biological mother, Jake. I had a one night stand…actually, more like afternoon…" he added, "…the last time we played at Coachella. In all honesty, I never gave her a second thought. From what Rachel's said, the mother pretty much felt the same way."

Exhaling deeply, he continued, "She was Rachel's best friend. Max was only about six months old when she passed, and Rachel adopted him."

"How'd she find you?" Jake prodded.

"I guess they were going through some of the mother's stuff that'd been packed away, and Rachel found a CD I'd autographed." Smirking a bit, he added "Used to be my 'parting gift' to _the ladies_ …"

"Charming," Jake sarcastically interjected.

"Yeah…whatever…" Noah muttered before concluding, "She 'put two and two together' and thought I should have the opportunity to know my son. Her lawyer contacted me through Quinn."

"That's a lot to take in," Jake conceded. "You're right…your mom would be all over this."

"Big time," Noah concurred, rolling his eyes.

"I get it," Jake confirmed. "I won't say anything."

"Thanks, Jake; I owe ya'," Noah gratefully accepted his brother's compliance.

"I wouldn't wait too long, though," Jake cautioned. "News travels, regardless of who's sworn to secrecy. She's bound to find out, and it'll be better if it comes from you."

"Point taken," Noah acknowledged.

Noah led Jake to the group, finding Kurt seated cross-legged on the ground next to Max, who was currently petting an obviously contented Roxy.

"Remember, Max; be gentle with her," Kurt reminded the child.

"OK, Uncle Kurt," Max agreed, happily engrossed in his current endeavor.

"Max, buddy, this is your Uncle Jake," Noah introduced them.

Momentarily diverting his eyes to the newcomer, Max greeted him "Hi, Uncle Jake," and pointing out, "I'm pettin' the doggy."

"Good job, Max," Kurt approved.

Rachel stood up and walked over to Noah and Jake. Touching Jake's forearm, Rachel suggested, "Jake, let me introduce my friends…Kurt, who's currently busy with Max is my best friend since middle school. Blaine," she gestured to the man in question, "is Kurt's husband and Max's godfather. I believe you know David…he's Max's nanny."

"It's great to meet you," Jake acknowledged. "Good to see you, too, Karofsky," he added.

"Nice to meet you, too," Blaine replied. Kurt looked up briefly, nodded and smiled, and refocused on Max as he guided the boy's hand, reminding him to pet the dog in the direction that her fur grew.

Now currently manning the grill (having relieved Artie, who was occupied elsewhere), David waved, adding, "Same here, Jake. We'll have to catch up, later."

"Lookin' forward to it," Jake agreed.

Having taken care of her introductions, Rachel returned to her seat while the men continued their conversation. Within a few minutes, they made their way toward the table, as well.

"Jake, how 'bout a beer?" Noah offered.

"Sounds great; thanks, bro," Jake accepted.

Noah leaned down toward Rachel, asking, "Anything to drink, Rach? There's beer and soda, and I think there's still some lemonade, or I could make you a wine spritzer…"

Her lemonade long gone, Rachel replied, "The wine sounds lovely, Noah."

"Be right back," Noah excused himself, returning shortly with two bottles of beer and a clear plastic cup filled with a bubbly liquid. He handed one of the bottles to his brother and the cup to Rachel. Each thanked Noah on receipt of their beverage, and Noah sat down at the end of the table.

Attempting to join the group, Jake teased, "Puck, can ya' squeeze in and make room for your little brother?"

Noah chuckled, scooting toward his right until his thigh was touching Rachel's. Rather than shy away, Rachel's innate reaction was to lightly lean against him as she resumed chatting with Tina.

In the midst of conversation, Jake reached out to take another drink, only to find his beer missing. Puzzled, he looked around, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Lookin' for this, Babe?" a feminine voice queried, replacing the bottle on the table.

"Mar?" Jake responded, inquiring, "All done on the phone?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "The band's giving me a hard time about the date, now, and they're insisting their fee's higher than the one we agreed on," she explained as she perched on the edge of the bench.

While Jake moved over to make room for Marley, Tina piped up, "Marley, I told you we'd be happy to play for the wedding."

Sam and Artie nodded in agreement, but Marley objected, insisting, "I appreciate it, Tina. You guys are practically family and Puck _is_ family; we want you to relax and have a good time, not perform."

Suddenly noticing people she didn't know, Marley smiled at Blaine (who was at the opposite side of the table) and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Marley Rose; Jake's fiancée. _"_

Before Blaine could respond in kind, the tinny melody of a nearby ice cream truck lightly punctuated the afternoon air.

Broadly grinning, Max looked up from a now sleeping Roxie, exclaiming, "Ice cream, Daddy! Can I have ice cream?"

"I don't know, Buddy; we'd better ask Mommy," Noah replied. He smiled at Rachel, posing, "Is it OK for Max to have an ice cream, Mommy?"

"I don't see why not," Rachel approved, suggesting, "Why don't we all go?"

Marley's jaw dropped and her eyes widened at Noah's response to "Daddy". Preoccupied with Max, neither Noah nor Rachel noticed her response. By the time they had walked away, Marley had regained her composure enough to jab Jake with her elbow.

"Marley; what the fuck?" Jake reacted to his sharp poke in the ribs.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me about this, Jake?" Marley admonished. "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"Geez, Mar…I only found out when I got here," Jake admitted.

"I didn't know your brother was so good at keeping secrets," Marley remarked. "The boy looks to be at least three…"

"He only found out a couple of months ago, from what he told me," Jake explained.

"Why did the mother hold out for so long?" Marley prodded.

By now, other conversation had ceased, and all eyes were focused on the couple.

"Look, Mar…from what Puck said, it's…well, it's a long story. I'll fill you in, later," Jake assured her.

"I'm counting on it," Marley confirmed. Regaining her composure, she refocused her attention on Blaine, saying, "I'm so sorry. You were just about to introduce yourself…"

* * *

Noah and Rachel returned with Max, who was happily licking a red Popsicle, wearing a matching red trail down the front of his shirt.

"Oh, Max; look at you," Rachel lightly admonished. "You are one sticky mess, mister. Soon as you're done, we'll clean you up and get you a new shirt."

"OK, Mommy," Max agreed, still primarily fixated on his treat.

"Excuse me," Marley caught Rachel's attention. She looked up, seeing an attractive woman with a friendly smile.

"I'm Marley Rose; Jake's fiancée," she introduced herself.

"It's nice to meet you, Marley," Rachel responded. "I'm Rachel Berry."

"Your little boy is adorable," Marley complimented.

"Thank you, Marley; I think he's pretty special, myself," Rachel responded, smiling softly.

"You know, I'm…I mean _we're_ getting married in October," Marley explained. "He'd…your little boy…"

"Max," Rachel clarified.

"Yeah, Max…he'd be just the cutest ring bearer. What do you think, Rachel?" Marley hopefully proposed.

"Thank you, Marley; that's sweet of you to suggest it," Rachel responded. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid we'll have to decline."

"Why?" Marley prodded. "I mean, he's Puck's _son_ …Jake's nephew…he's _family_ …"

"Yes, I understand, Marley," Rachel politely concurred. "He's simply too young, and I don't think he'd handle it well. Besides, I have to work, and I won't be able to get away at that time."

"You can't take a weekend off?" Marley posed.

"I wish I could, but it's not that simple," Rachel stated, calmly explaining. "I've already scheduled my vacation, and I'm expected to perform, otherwise, especially on the weekends. Besides, even if I could, as I said, Max is just too young…unless you want me walking down the aisle holding his hand."

"No, I suppose not…" Marley reluctantly agreed, hastily adding, "No offense, or anything…"

Smiling, Rachel replied, "None taken, Marley."

"All done, Mommy!" Max piped up, his happy smile coated with cherry-flavored residue.

"OK, Max, time to wash up," Rachel insisted. "You'll have to excuse me for a minute," she apologized. "We're going to get this sticky guy all clean and shiny."

"Clean and shiny, Mommy!" Max parroted, grinning.

As soon as Max had finished his ice cream, Noah had quietly excused himself and gone to retrieve Rachel's tote for her, which he presented when she moved away from the table.

"Why, thank you, Noah!" Rachel happily accepted the bag, her cheeks tinged pink (which didn't go unnoticed by her friends) as their hands brushed during the transition.

"Any time, Rach," Noah replied. "Need any help?"

"Thank you, Noah, but I've got it covered," she gently refused his offer. Directing her attention toward the little boy, she offered her hand, asserting, "Come on, Max. Time to get you presentable, mister."

Her focus on the child, Rachel didn't notice the disappointed look that briefly crossed Noah's face.

Kurt, who, unlike Rachel, _clearly_ observed Noah's reaction, whispered to Blaine, "See; what did I tell you? It's like my Grandma Daisy used to say, 'like shooting fish in a barrel'. All they need is a little _push_ …"

"OK, I get it…" Blaine whispered back. Speaking softly, now, he asserted, "I won't hear the end of this until I do this, will I?"

Smiling slyly, Kurt confirmed, "You've got _that_ right, Honey."


End file.
